Last Resort
by kitelester
Summary: Spike has to get out of Sunnydale, but where can he go? Tells two stories, one that happened in the late 1800's, and one set in the present day (BtVS Season 6/AtS Season 3). Not slash, unless that's how you want to interpret events.
1. No Sweet Home

She finally came to herself. Spike couldn't even form a coherent thought about why he was so happy this was finally happening. He kept eye contact for a moment, hoping to let her know what he was feeling-whatever that was-before she turned and left his view.

Was she going to the police department? Home? Spike couldn't tell. Couldn't tell or feel much of anything at the moment, which was a new and happy change. Spike welcomed the darkness, the loyal friend to him it had always been, and was carried away into sweet abyss.

It was the smell that woke him up. After all, pain was pain at this point-burning versus broken really didn't matter. He could smell it though, his flesh burning in the morning sun, and desperately woke himself out of the dark numbness and into the bright agony.

Eyes wide and fearful, Spike dragged himself into a sitting position and yanked his flaming leg out of the sun and into the shadows with the rest of him. Small mercy that only his leg had been in the sun.

Spike closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, waiting for the world to stop doing an impression of a merry-go-round. Once he was oriented, Spike opened his eyes again and searched for access to the sewers. He finally found an manhole, and it wasn't far… but was in the sun.

_Of course._ Pulling himself up, Spike tried to decide whether he'd be able to make it to the manhole and uncover it before bursting into flames. On a normal day that would be a no brainer, but with him feeling as weak as he does…

Looking about, Spike notices that in a few hours, the shadows should move to cover the manhole. Satisfied that this was a good plan, Spike relaxed up against the wall and waited for sleep to claim him once more.

Getting into the sewers had proved to be a challenge on his fresh wounds, but well worth it. Spike knew right where he was, and the best way to get back to his crypt to avoid demons or human workers. However, he was too far away to make the trek immediately, so when he found himself in a passage that was almost always abandoned Spike decided it was as good a place as any to crash for the day. Wouldn't be the first time he slept in the sewers, and with his track record for buggering up a good thing it wouldn't be the last. Sighing heavily to himself, Spike collapsed into a heap and briefly considered staying in that very spot until the end of days.

Sadly, his rest would soon be interrupted. Normally Spike would have heard them a lot further off, or even smelled them despite the rather distracting smell of the sewers. This was not 'normally' though. It was all he could do to throw himself behind a corner before a group of demons rounded the corner.

Spike held very still, hoping it was a group that didn't know him and wouldn't care to investigate the smell of vampire blood in the air.

"Hold on… I smell something." The group shuffled to a halt, waiting for their leader to sift through the various smells of the sewer for whatever he was looking for. After a moment, one of his followers seemed bored of waiting.

"Is it a family of seven that we can feast on? Cuz if not I can't say I'm interested. Let's just get back to the base and get some sl-"

"Shut up, I'm concentrating. I heard something just before dawn at Willy's, thought it was bull, but…" The leader's voice turned towards Spike's hiding place, and Spike could feel his body tense. Spike didn't bother trying to smell out who his visitors are; he can tell they're a group of vampires. He couldn't place the voice, but Spike was sure he'd had dealings with them in the past. Just a loser group of fledges, never been a threat.

"Well, what is it? Wha'd'ya hear?" Another vampire asked, in a somewhat whiny voice. They sounded insufferable, the whole lot.

"That a certain vampire of a certain reputation got his trash kicked and was laying out in the open, waiting for the sun. The demon that saw him was too chicken-shit to do anything about it, but was yakkin' my ear off about it at Willy's."

"What vampire? Who cares about one-"

"Spike." The leader waited a second for that to sink in. "That's what this guy said, anyway. The bleached pain-in-our-collective-asses. If we bag Spike…" The group sounded a collective sound of understanding and approval, to which Spike couldn't help but snort at. Realizing he'd accidentally given away his location, Spike threw all caution to the wind.

"You lot are truly pathetic, you know that? Trying to get street cred by knocking down a half-killed vampire. Blood-suckers used to have pride, you know?" Spike stepped out of the shadows and leaned up against the wall, going for casual confidence. The group turned to face him, a few of them putting on their game faces. "Then they started turning anyone they couldn't bother killin and well… Now we've got you." Wishing for a cigarette but knowing his lungs wouldn't be capable of it, Spike settled for messing with the cuff to his jacket.

"Spike. You look worse off than the jackass at the bar said." The leader faced Spike, trying to get a feel for him. Spike could tell he was uneasy about the confidence Spike was showing. Best to play that up.

"Well. You should see the other guy. Not that there'd be much left to look at anyway." Spike punctuated his comment with a snarling of his lip, and Spike could almost see the shiver go up his would-be opponent's spine. Hating that he had to settle for scare-tactics, Spike experimentally stretched his arms back, holding back a wince at the pain. "I'm feelin' up for round two though, if ya'd like. A little post-murder exercise."

The ranks looked unsure. There were four vampires in total, three men and a girl. They didn't look particularly tough, but it would only take one lucky move from a mediocre fighter to kill a skilled one.

Hoping his intimidation technique paid off, Spike took to staring each one in the eyes before they looked away. Finally he met the gaze of the leader.

"I think you're bluffing, you can barely hold yourself up."  
Spike stared at him for a long moment before replying.

"Who you tryin to convince, mate?"

Just as the group looked ready to leave, Spike's vision started to darken.

_Oh, no, no… not now… I can't get killed by a group of idiotic fledges…_

They looked uneasy, but they weren't unnerved enough to flee just yet. Unable to wait for them to lose their backbones and make an exit, Spike charged for the leader, game face on, growling gutterly.

"Get him!" The leader yelled.

Spike wasn't fighting them, though. He just charged through the minions savagely and made his way to the leader. _Just gotta kill him…_

Spike was light headed and frenzied, and the edges of his sight were already dark, but he just had to kill one of them. One newborn vampire.

Ignoring the uncoordinated attacks of the three fledges around him, Spike broke through and tackled the leader to the ground. He was a large man, but Spike had at least a hundred years on him, and they both went down with a thud.

Not bothering with threats or usual attacks, Spike took his only weapon and tore into the vampires throat.

"What is he-Oh, my-" the girl dropped her stake in surprise, bring her hands to cover her mouth.

"Get him off of-AHHHH!" The leader screamed and writhed beneath Spike, but was unable to get Spike off of him. His followers watched for a moment, frozen in fear, when they heard a tell-tale 'snap' come from their leader, and he stopped struggling. Spike looked up at the three remaining, and regarded them with a steely gaze. His mouth dripped with blood, and he gave his lips a lick for effect.

"I'm going to kill him now. All of you may leave if that's what you want." They were gone in seconds.

_Handy._ Spike thought to himself as he picked up the dropped stake. _Now I don't have to tear through his whole neck._

Covered in dust and exhausted, Spike accepted the fact that he was going to have to make the journey back to his crypt now, before the other three vampires were able to sound abroad Spike's condition. He may have killed this one, but any other demon would know after hearing the story that Spike was vulnerable.

Just as Spike was reaching up to the rug that covered the hole to his crypt, he heard a sound. Someone was inside.

Spike pinched his eyes shut and smelled carefully, which was difficult due to his broken nose.

Human.

Wait…

Slayer.

She walked around his crypt a few times, then left.

Sighing, Spike uncovered the hole and dragged himself up onto his floor.

_Home, sweet home._

London, 1880

William smiled to himself as Dru finished her dance. Ever since she'd slept with Angelus, he'd struggled to be around her. He'd been absolutely miserable, actually. Finally, though, he could let it go. Angelus might sleep with her sometimes, but she danced for him. Drusilla loved William, and would always be his dark princess. Nothing would change that.

"Beautiful, Dru." Taking her in his arms, he kissed her cheek sweetly. Things were so much better now.

"Oh, William… You just say that because it's true…" She looked up at him dreamily, then nuzzled into his embrace. "My sweet William…"

William breathed in her scent, finally content with the world.

Well… mostly.

"Dru… Why don't we leave? Go travel Europe on our own?"

Drusilla looked back up at him, confusion in her eyes.

"Why ever would we leave?"

William bit down on his lip, trying to think of a way to explain his thoughts to his deranged love.

"Well, pet… Just to do as we please. When we please. Doesn't that sound good?" William tried let his eyes convey his whole message, and when understanding came over her, he thought she finally understood.

"Oh, my William… So much to learn." She smiled as though that explained everything, and cut off his reply with a kiss. "No more talking, now. Let's dance together."

Current Day Sunnydale

The vampire's blood from earlier wasn't sitting well with Spike. His stomach woke him up just a few hours after he'd drifted off, right on the floor. He forced his stomach to calm itself, and pulled himself up to a sitting position.

_What had that tramp been eating, Fyarl demon?_ Massaging his stomach, Spike looked up at his bed and wondered what it would take to get up into those soft sheets. _What I'd give for a lackey._

Somewhere in Europe, 1880

"Dru, will you help me clean this up? My arm is still broken." Drusilla looked over at William, who was struggling to lift a young woman's corpse off the ground.

"Of course, my sweet…" Smiling to herself, she lifted the girl easily and threw the body out the back door. "We'll have a minion take it from there. Was she your kill?"

"Angelus's. We'd gotten her at the bar-I'd already eaten." William rubbed his hand absently over his right arm. "My sweet, how long does it take to heal, usually?"

"It's different. Plus, the longer you're under the stars the shorter it takes to heal."

William pulled his eyebrows together and looked out the window, wondering if it would be worth it to go outside and sit under the night sky in order to heal faster. Seemed boring.

"She means, the older you are, the quicker you heal. Fledges like yourself take a while." Darla had entered the room silently, as she often did.

Nodding to himself, William thanked her for clearing that up.

"Of course, William. Do you know where Angelus went off to? I have to speak with him."

"Sorry Darla, he didn't say. Just left after eating-I don't think he went far, he was on foot."

Darla tutted, but didn't say anything more, leaving as quietly as she entered.

"What was that, William?"

Will hadn't even noticed he'd said his thought out loud until Drusilla questioned him.

"Oh, just sayin that Angelus likes 'em small." Drusilla cocked her head, waiting for him to explain. "Like, you and Darla, and his meals. Small."

"And like you." William inwardly winced. He'd always hated when someone pointed out his size, even as a human. Now as a vampire it just seemed cruel how much smaller he was than other vampires.

"Well I guess, but he's not my sire, now is he?" William closed the space between them, and winced as she hugged him with no regard for his broken arm. "He just sires beautiful women, like you and Darla."

Drusilla smiled up at William, mischief in her countenance.

"He's not Darla's Sire, William. Didn't you know?" Drusilla chuckled at William's look of confusion.

"But I mean… I've seen him drink her blood, you know? And yours, too. You told me it was a Sire thing, but that we didn't do it cuz of… I don't know, something." William tilted Drusilla's head to look at the scars on her neck. "The blood trade, whatever it's called."

Drusilla just giggled and bit at his fingers playfully.

"My sweet William… So ignorant… And there you were wanting to run off and see the world all alone…" Drusilla turned around and rubbed her back up against William, wrapping his arms around her.

William stared down at her for a moment before sighing, her words ringing in his head.

_No, Dru. Not alone. _

Sunnydale, Present day

Spike stared down at the mess below his bed, thinking idly how glad he was that he hadn't thrown up on his bed. He was fond of these blankets, and he wouldn't have had the patience to try and wash them.

_Great. Now I'm starving again._

He laid back down on his soft pillows, wondering how long it was going to take him before he could get upstairs. He'd be able to make it up the ladder by tonight, he decided, and rolled back over. There had been too many interruptions in his sleep, at this rate he'd never heal.

"Bloody… hell…" With a final heave, Spike pulled himself up to the top floor, where his fridge was. He needed blood if he was ever going to heal up.

He rested there for a moment, waiting to get his bearings, and then finally made his way to the fridge.

Which was empty.

Spike rested his head against the open door for a moment, before yelling out and pushing the whole thing over. It slid several feet and sparked, then laid still.

Still angry, he kicked at a nearby table, and felt something reopen or crack inside him. Howling, he fell over and landed right next to the splintered remains of the table.

_That was bloody close… I can see it now: "Here lies Spike, murdered by a coffee table."_ He laughed without humor, and rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

As he lay, cursing every decision that brought him to this point, he heard movement outside his crypt. He recognized the gait, and sprung to his feet.

After diving down the hole to the lower level of his crypt, he landed badly on his foot and felt it sprain-or break. Adrenaline carried him forward and back down the manhole, and he covered it back up just as he heard the door to his crypt open.

_Twice in one day… Unless I've been out longer than I thought. _ Legs shaking, Spike sat down and waited for the Slayer to get bored of looking for him and leave.

London, Mid 1881

"Alright, Willy. " Angelus spat the name he used when he was particularly upset with William. "Two minutes. You have two minutes to convince me not to throw you out into the sunlight and watch all my frustration go up in flame." Angelus had William pinned to the wall.

"I can do what I want, Angelus. You're not my bloody Sire or whatever, who made you king of the-"

William's voice cut off as Angelus put more pressure on his windpipe. William didn't feel light headed from the lack of air or blood circulation, since he had no need for those things. However, he did suddenly have vivid memories of Angelus beheading vampires and people alike with nothing but brute force.

Angelus considered him for a moment, his anger mounting, and William wondered for a moment if he really was going to just kill him right then.

Instead, he smiled and released him.

"Right you are, boy." William focused on keeping himself upright, and waited for Angelus to elaborate.

However, Angelus just looked at him again, a twisted smile playing at his lips, and turned away.

"Darla, Drusilla, leave your things. I'm thinking of Rome; I haven't been there in so long."

William looked up at the group in confusion.

"Angelus? Th' 'ell's going on?" That was it? Angelus was just letting him go?

Angelus didn't turn back around. He put an arm around the waist of each girl, and started to walk off in the darkness.

William shakily put one foot in front of the other, and caught up to them.

"Dru? Hey, Dru!"

Drusilla looked at him sadly for a brief moment, then turned her attention back to Angelus.

"Will I be able to find a new playmate in Rome, Daddy?"

"I expect so. Maybe one with a little more than piss for brains this time-Eh, Angelus?" Darla smiled sweetly, catching William's eye for a moment and raising her eyebrow, as if to communicate something, before ignoring him once again.

"What do you-Dru I'm still here. I'm your bloody-Bloody everything! Angelus, stop!"

William reached out and grabbed at Angelus's arm. Angelus ripped his arm out of William's grip easily, and threw him to the ground.

He regarded William for a moment, then smirked and turned away.

_He… He bloody exiled me. And Drusilla's…_

William felt sick. He ran a hand through his hair and stood up carefully, eyes wide. It didn't even occur to him to be glad that he could finally take charge of himself and be on his own. That was all meaningless without Drusilla by his side. Dru hadn't left with him. She was out of reach. How? Why? What didn't he understand? William swallowed his panic at finding himself completely alone in the world, and leaned up against a nearby wall.

Finally, the dynamics of the group made sense in a way they hadn't before. Of course, figuring out the problem when it was too late. Typical William Pratt. Screw up a good thing without even realizing what it was.

Sunnydale, Current Day

Spike wasn't entirely sure why he was hiding from her, but he didn't want to psychoanalyze himself. Just didn't want to see her. Had a right to privacy and all. Didn't want to hear what she'd say-afraid of what she might say, really. Or do. Doesn't matter, just didn't want to deal with her. Wanted to be…

What did he want? He was alone, that was usually what someone in his condition probably wanted. But Spike never wanted to be alone. He needed contact-regular, meaningful contact. Whether that was in the form of fighting or shagging didn't really matter. He just needed to be with those of his own kind. The Slayer was that for him, but…

_What am I gonna do._

Pulling himself back up into the bottom levels of his crypt, Spike took inventory of his belongings. It was a nice set up, really. Posh. Comfy. Empty.

Spike felt something in his pockets. Keys to his DeSoto.

But… where could he go? Was there anyone left who could stand the sight of him?


	2. Choking on Pride

Rome, Late 1881

"Really, my dear? Well, if you insist. I'll see you at home, then. Try to get in before sunup." Darla gave Drusilla a kiss on the cheek, and left the shop they had been perusing to go attend the opera with Angelus.

They didn't often take part in such cultural activities, but Angelus had developed a fascination with one of the singers. He said he wanted to see her sing one last time before deciding whether to kill or turn her.

"I will, mummy. Have fun." Smiling to herself, Drusilla made her way to the back of the shop.

She browsed for a few more moments before deciding on a particular red dress she wanted to try on.

"You'll look great in it, pet."

"I always do, William." Drusilla smiled widely at the scraggly vampire before her. He hadn't done well on his own the past few months. He was dirty and looked near starved. "You'd better be careful, Angelus wouldn't be happy."

"Please, Dru, just… Come with me. I love you, Dru." William stared into those mysterious eyes, wondering how sane she was at the moment.

"Sweet, sweet William. I love you, too! So hurry and make up with Daddy, otherwise I'll have to get a new love." Drusilla closed the gap between them, but didn't touch him. Ghosting her hands over his face, she tilted her head and considered him with a faraway look in her eyes. "You remember how to make up. You saw it before, when we presented you." Withdrawing, she gave him another meaningful smile, and left the shop.

William looked down at the dress she left behind, and pondered her words.

Sewers of London, 1880

"It's good to see you again so soon, Darla. Everything worked out with your boy, it seems. And you've been busy." Darla smiled sweetly at the bat-like demon, and allowed herself to be embraced by him.

"We have, Master. He isn't official, but this is William, newest member of our family. If he lives long enough, he may enter our order." Darla leaned in conspiratorially to the creature, and added, "I wouldn't count on it."

The creature smiled widely, and motioned for William to come closer to him. William ignored the request, but was brought up to him by force by the minions which stood at attention nearby.

"William. I see." The old vampire looked at William studiously, searching for who knows what secrets within his face. "He has potential. A bit on the small side… but that's nothing new." The vampire's eyes flicked quickly to Angelus and then back to William.

William stayed quiet, waiting for the vampire before him to get bored.

He didn't have to wait long. The Master turned away from him and walked up to his throne, but didn't sit in it.

"Well, are any of you coming back for good this time?" The Master seemed to know the answer to his question before asking it, but deemed it necessary to ask.

"No, Master. Just paying respects while in town. We'll be in the country for a little while though, bringing up the fledge, if we're needed." Darla smiled sweetly again, and William held back a gag. The whole night had been filled with pomp and circumstance, and was leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Then, for no apparent reason, the Master and a few other vampires looked up towards the door, as though someone had walked through.

William followed their gaze, but couldn't see or hear anything for several seconds. Then, he heard the sounds of a struggle draw near.

"It's a night full of prodigals, isn't it?" The Master mused, watching with interest as a man was brought before him.

"Found him sneaking around in the sewers, Master. Shall we kill him?"

"No, not yet anyway. James, my dear boy."

William backed up from the Master and stood beside Drusilla, watching with interest at the scene before him.

"I thought I'd exiled you for good. Whatever possessed you to return?" The Master stood before the man, looking for the world like a cat with a mouse.

Without saying a word, the man knelt to the ground and pressed his forehead to the Master's shoe. The Master didn't move, and the whole room seemed to be holding a breath.

"I, James, Childe of Marte, of the order Aurelius, humbly beg The Master to be allowed entrance into his presence and good graces, as minion and servant." Then, lifting his head and baring his neck, the man looked pleadingly up at The Master.

"What a change. I expect it to last, James." Bending down, The Master lifted James up and sunk his teeth into his neck. Just as James seemed to be on the brink of passing out, The Master pulled away and let him sink to the floor.

"There will be no exile next time, James, because there will be no next time." James humbly looked down, and fell into rank with some other vampires

William felt a chill go down his spine, and was grateful that for whatever reason, Angelus and his group didn't seem to fraternize with this group very often.

"Sorry for that bit of business, Darla. I have noted your respects. Please, visit again." Darla gave a polite curtsey, which was mirrored by Drusilla and ignored by Angelus, who had been silent almost the whole night. He'd made his opinion of seeing the Master quite clear.

The four of them finally left, and William vowed to himself to never go back to those sewers again.

Sunnydale, Present Day

When it was finally sundown, Spike wasted no time getting to his DeSoto. He had to go carefully-who knows what might be lurking about after sundown.

He made it to his car without any trouble, and turned the ignition swiftly. He was already starting to lose his nerve, but he knew there was no other choice. He would definitely get killed if he stuck around here. Sooner or later word was going to spread that little Spikey had one foot in the grave. Half of Sunnydale knew where he lived, and it wasn't the harmless human half.

He was out of Sunnydale before long, and headed to the only place he could think of.

Rome, Early 1882

William had been watching them closely for a few weeks now. They seemed to be tiring of Rome and looked like they were making preparations to leave. He'd have to do it soon. He might lose them again as they travel, or they might go somewhere colder. William hated the cold, and could only imagine how awful it would be to be on his own somewhere that snowed or iced over in the winter. He'd probably freeze to death. Can vampires freeze to death? Well, William didn't want to find out if they could.

He decided he couldn't wait another night. He was on the verge of starvation as it was. Every time he tried to feed, it seemed like someone was on to him. He'd been chased by mobs almost endlessly, and there seemed to be an order of priests and nuns spreading crucifixes and garlic to their flocks.

William watched as Angelus and Darla entered their house. Will had watched earlier as Drusilla had entered on her own. He'd wished for a moment that he could catch her alone and convince her to leave with him, but the sole encounter with her during his exile had proved to him she would never leave of her own will.

William watched the house, grounded to his spot on the roof adjacent. There were just two hours before sunrise.

He knew Drusilla wasn't coming to him, so he'd have to find a way back in. And that way was through Angelus. He was the man on top.

He'd figured it out just as he was exiled, what Drusilla had been trying to tell him in her own special way. He'd finally understood when he remembered what Darla had taught him once, about sires and the different relationships between vampires. William had assumed Angelus had sired Darla and Drusilla, but he was wrong. Angelus had sired Drusilla, but more importantly he'd claimed her-and he'd claimed Darla, who was his own sire. William didn't know everything about claiming, but he knew that the one claimed promised something like fidelity or loyalty and the one doing the claiming promised protection and responsibility. Something like that. Either way, William knew what he had to do to be with Drusilla again, and it wasn't going to be pleasant.

And not only that, there'd be an audience. He'd wanted to do it while Angelus was alone, but he never seemed to be far from one of the girls.

William continued to stare at the door until he realized his time was running short. Not long now before sunrise.

_Now or never._ Bracing himself, William jumped down off the roof and stood before the door, wondering if he was making a very poor choice.

He opened it slowly, almost expecting to find they had all disappeared and he'd have to track them down again, like when he'd first arrived in Rome weeks after they had.

But instead, he found them all in the front room, casually going about their business. Darla was brushing Drusilla's hair, humming sweetly a tune he didn't recognize. Angelus was standing by the fireplace, reading some ancient tome, probably in a language William hadn't heard of. None of them looked up when he entered.

_Okay, William. Go on. Just think about Dru._

Swallowing hard, William forced one foot in front of the other until he was in front of Angelus.

"I want the two minutes, Angelus."

Angelus held up a finger, silently telling William to wait, until he found a stopping place in his book. Then, replacing a bookmark, he closed the book and set it down on the mantle.

"Two minutes?" Angelus raised an eyebrow at William, and waited for him to expound.

"In London, you said I could have two minutes to convince you not to, uh, throw me into the sunlight. I want those two minutes."

Intrigued, Angelus tilted his head in curiosity. Realizing this was the closest thing he'd get to permission, William took a steadying breath.

"Um, before I do, what's the uh-what's the name of the order? The one with the bat-face guy?"

Angelus snorted at that, and didn't hide his glee as he turned to Darla for her to answer.

"Aurelius, William." Darla shot a begrudgingly amused glare at Angelus, who turned back to William.

"Alright, William. You've got a minute thirty seconds now."

Looking around the room and wishing again for privacy, William looked down at the ground, unable to meet the gaze of anyone in the room.

He dropped to his knees quickly, without any grace, and mimicked what he'd seen in the sewers of London just a few months after he was turned.

He swiftly pressed his forehead to Angelus's shoe, waited a few beats, and then sat up.

"I, William, Childe of Drusilla of the Order Au-Aurelius, humbly beseech Angelus to allow me back into his presence and graces as-um, as…" William trailed off, not sure what he was supposed to say. He caught Drusilla's eye, who mouthed a word to him. "As Childe?" Hoping that was right, William paused for a moment before closing his eyes and baring his neck.

Either this would be enough for him or it wouldn't. The sun was up now; Angelus could throw him out there and he'd be in flames in a second, young and flammable as he was.

There was silence in the room as Angelus seemed to consider the proposition. William could feel Angelus's amusement at William's behavior, and it drove him mad. It took every ounce of self control he'd managed to cultivate, but William didn't move from his spot on the ground.

"Well done, William." Angelus grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and pulled him to his feet. Spike remembered with some terror what it had been like when he was sired, and the fear of being the prey instead of the hunter. He swallowed his terror though, and tried not to look at Angelus's yellow eyes and terrible Demon visage.

He was done draining William in seconds; there wasn't much blood in him to begin with. Instead of just dropping him to the floor, though, as William had seen The Master do, Angelus used one of his nails to open a vein on his own wrist. Then, he held it up to William, who drank gratefully and deeply.

"Responsibility in return for obedience, William, that's what this trade is. You're now my Childe as surely as Drusilla is." Angelus paused, thoughtfully regarding William. "She may have Sired you, but I've been your Sire since the day you were turned." Angelus removed his hand from William, and held him upright. Boring his eyes deeply into Williams, he made sure he had his attention before continuing. "I don't expect you to be a groveling minion or a sweet obedient childe like Drusilla. But when I do get around to giving you a direct order, you'd best make sure to follow it." Angelus released William roughly, and pushed him over to Drusilla's arms. "I'll leave you two to get… re-acquainted. Darla? Let's leave the childer to play, shall we?"

Darla had abandoned the brush she'd been using on Drusilla's hair, and stood from her seat on the couch to join Angelus.

As they left, William could hear Darla's surprise that Angelus had decided not to kill him after all. William gulped, realizing just how close he'd been to eternal rest. Or, unrest as some had speculated.

"Welcome back, my sweet." Drusilla pulled William down onto the couch, smiling deviously.

_Well worth it._

LA, Present Day

"Angel… I want a raise." Cordelia punctuated her last word by dropping a gooey axe onto the table, and proceeding to make a great show of peeling the blue goop off of her hands, raising her eyebrows at Angel.

"Sure thing, Cordy. Expect it in your next check." Angel smirked, setting his own sword down. Luckily they were in no short supply of weapons, so he wouldn't have to clean this one anytime soon. That demon had been full of surprises, one being very sticky-and prolific-azure blood.

"I'm not gonna get a disease, am I?" Gunn spat into the sink again, making sure it was all gone from his mouth. "That stuff is naaaasty."

"Well, you shouldn't catch anything but if you do let me know, it'd be fascinating to study." Wesley rubbed his eyes, briefly wondering how much banter he would have to participate in before he could find a bed and try to sleep this one off.

"Does anyone want tea or coffee?" Fred asks sweetly, the only one who had managed to completely avoid any kind of goop or slop. This had made the others pretty frustrated, and she wanted to assuage any angst as quickly as she could.

Soon, they were all gathered around the table, laughing about the events that had led to the demon hunt.

Angel sipped on his warmed blood, glad they were all on good terms at the moment. Things could get awkward with a group like this.

"Well, I'm about to pass out from exhaustion. Anyone else? It's been real, everyone." Cordy stood, leaving her cup of cold tea, and headed for the stairs. She was soon followed by Fred and Wesley, but Gunn stayed back.

"Too keyed up to sleep-don't know how they do it. Guess you'd be up anyways." Gunn took another sip of his drink, watching the retreating figures of his coworkers.

"Yeah, hardwired to be nocturnal and-"

But Angel was cut off by the sound of Fred screaming.

Jumping up, Angel and Gunn ran up to her room.

"Fred, what is it?" Gunn yelled up the stairs.

"A vampire! There's a vampire in my room!"

Pulling out stakes, Gunn and Angel rounded the corner to Fred's room.

"Move aside, Fred!" Angel threw Fred back into Gunn's arms, and kicked open the door to her room.

"Good morning to you too, peaches."

Angel almost dropped his stake in surprise, but soon regained composure and regarded the vampire before him.

"Spike." They stared at each other for a moment longer, Spike sipping on a mug of blood, and Angel wondering why Spike wasn't attacking. It took him longer than it should have to notice all of his injuries. "What happened to you?"

Before Spike could answer, Gunn released Fred and stood beside Angel.

"What, you know this one?"

"Yeah, he uh… Give us a minute?" Angel gave Gunn a measured look, and motioned to Fred. "Keep her somewhere safe, will ya?" Gunn relented, and gave Angel a 'you're the boss' look.

Closing the door behind him, Angel entered Fred's room.

Spike still remained silent, slowly sipping at his cup of blood, as if it hurt every time he swallowed.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Angel lowered his stake, but didn't drop it.

"Just lookin for a place to hole up and heal. Couple of demons got the drop on me, can't go back home until I'm fightin-ready."

"And home would be…" Angel trailed off, waiting for Spike to answer.

"Buckingham Palace." Spike sneered, then answered when Angel didn't take the bait. "Yes, I'm still in Slayer-dale. Bad for my health, I know, but I just can't kick the habit." Spike set down the cup, and leaned up against the headboard of Fred's bed.

"Right. And… why should I let you heal up here? How did you think this would be a good idea?"

Spike stayed silent for a little while, as he gathered his thoughts. Then, looking back up at Angel, he wondered how much of Angelus was still kicking in there.

"Got two minutes?"

Angel's face remained blank, so Spike took a different approach.

"Look, I got no other choice. I won't hurt your pet humans, I won't tell all your demon enemies where you sleep, and I won't tell everyone about that time you wore a dress."

"I never-"

"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. Who will Willy's pub believe?" Spike smiled humorlessly, and tried to get comfortable on the bed. "I'm willing to change rooms. This was just the first one that didn't smell like sweaty human male. Do your pets bathe regularly?"

"They're not my… Spike, you're drinking pigs blood."

"I had noticed, Captain Forehead."

"Why."

It wasn't really a question, it was a command. A command to spill his guts and not leave anything out.

Spike had sworn obedience once, but that was a long time ago.

"Just tryin something new. It's a-whaddya call it, it's a token. I'll live by your rules while I'm here or whatever. Come on Angel, look at me." Spike glared at Angel, seemingly angry that Angel didn't understand that this is the last place he'd be by choice. "I'm no threat. Can't even stand up. Fell down those stairs when I first came in and broke my already sprained ankle." Spike tore his gaze from Angel and stared at the ceiling. "Just a few weeks is all."

Spike had come dangerously close to pleading. Realizing this, he turned away from Angel and regarded the cup once again.

Angel watched the blond for a moment as he tried to drink the pigs blood, realizing what was making him struggle.

"Is that why you're half-starved?"

Spike looked at him, confused.

"You've got internal damage. Been making you throw up every time you feed."

Spike looked down at the cup and set it down. No, he hadn't realized that. And no, that wasn't the only reason he was half starved. He hadn't fed properly since he got the chip, not even on pigs blood. Something always seemed to happen to him as he was heading home with it, causing it to spill on the ground. Plus, he was broke most of the time. Add to that the fact that he just hated the taste of it… Yeah, he hadn't fed properly in a while.

"Yeah, that's it. Thought maybe I'd healed enough by now to drink, but uh…" Spike put a cautious hand on his stomach, already feeling it reject the offered nourishment.

Sighing heavily in defeat, Angel put his stake in his pocket. He walked over to Spike and motioned for him to stand. Angel helped him over to the door and pulled it open carefully, trying not to jostle Spike too much.

Angel let go of him once they were by the railing, which Spike held onto while Angel went to explain the situation to his humans.

"Okay, so you all are definitely allowed to overrule me and call me crazy."

"Angel, who is that man?" Fred cast a fearful glance to Spike, who was reeling.

"His name is Spike, he's uh… He was part of the group I led as Angelus. Long story. Boring story. He's an evil vampire, responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, very dangerous, cruel, and even a bit cunning sometimes."

"And… recently got a soul?" Cordy asked hopefully. Angel shook his head.

"Nope. Just plain ol' evil."

"And we're not staking him, because…" Gunn was looking dangerously close to taking matters into his own hands.

"He asked me for help."

All four of his employees let out a collective groan, and began the usual name-calling and rehashing of past decisions Angel had made that had gone sour.

"Okay, okay everyone stop. Look I don't know the details, but I've heard rumors that Spike hasn't been the big bad he used to be. I don't know the whole story, and haven't cared to look into it, but I hear he's been helping the Slayer."

"Why?" Cordy asked incredulously.

"I don't know, maybe she pays him. We haven't been sharing our deep dark secrets lately."

The conversation continued for a few more minutes-Wesley sharing Watcher history of Spike, Gunn sharing street history of killing vampires, Cordy reminding him about the fiasco they'd had the last time someone from Angel's history had popped up, and Fred, well… just being Fred.

"Okay, look. I'll put him in the room across from mine and lock it. We'll try this for a few days, and if he does one single thing to make you uncomfortable, I'll throw him out into the sun. It wouldn't be hard." Angel regarded Spike for a moment, knowing he'd heard him. "There's just more to this whole thing that's going on, and… he's my responsibility. Okay? If he's not killing, and he's been batting for the good guys… I can't just leave him."

"Is this because he's being a good little vampire, or because you're his Sire?" Wesley regarded Angel, knowing something of the bond between such vampires.

"I set Drusilla on fire, Wesley. Spike has betrayed both me and Angelus in recent history, and I him. The bond doesn't mean a whole lot these days." Angel kept Wesley's gaze until the former watcher looked away, sighing, and started for his room, giving silent permission for whatever happened next.

"Alright but I want my tone and doubtful expression on the record." Cordy gave Angel a pointed look, and left.

Fred gave a little shrug, and maneuvered around Angel and Spike to get back to her room.

Gunn still looked unconvinced.

"Okay Gunn, tell me straight. Am I completely insane?" Angel asked, knowing the answer.

Gunn didn't answer for a long moment, considering his answer with more care than Angel would have expected.

"Well… I don't like it. And yeah, I think you're crazy. But I get it. If someone from my old crew showed up like that-" he motioned to Spike, "-even if they'd been nothing but trouble before, I'd want to help him. So yeah, you're insane, but… I won't stop you."

Angel nodded, hiding how much it meant to him that Gunn supported his decision.

"And I swear, one step out of line and you can escort him into the afternoon sun. No arguments from me."

Gunn grinned and wished Angel a goodnight before going off to his own bedroom.

Angel went back to help Spike down to his new room, noting grimly that Spike doesn't protest, banter, or argue. _Someone or something really messed him up. _


	3. Push Just Became Shove

Sunnydale, Present Day

Cordelia 'hmm'd and set down the large, ancient book she'd been perusing down on the table, and picked up another one.

Wesley for his part was deeply engrossed in his own volume and barely noticed, as he was making careful notes in the margin with his archive pen. He had quite the collection, and had begun to color coordinate his notes.

Another 'hmm' came from the young woman as she a bit more roughly put down another large demonology tome, and picked up another one.

This time Wesley did notice, as the vibrations on the table had made his pen slip, and almost ruin his notes.

He scrunched his eyes shut momentarily, and then got back to his notes.

_My goodness_ Wesley thought to himself _this cross references with-_

"Hmmmmm…" Cordelia once again breathed, nearly throwing her third book onto the pile.

"Cordelia! Are you trying to to-oh no! What was it? This passage, it cross references with… umm…what…" Wesley sat back in his chair and rubbed his temples.

Cordelia looked at him with one eye brow cocked, looking at him like he was 12 years old.

"Is there something on your mind, Ms. Chase?"

"Don't you Ms. Chase me! You keep distracting me with that pen of yours. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard."

"No, Cordelia, that would be your voice you're hearing." Wesley smiled unkindly, his lip twisting into a sneer.

"Eugh! Angel, Wesley-"

"Angel is still asleep, genius. Daylight? Not really his thing these days, if you haven't noticed." Wesley grabbed his archive pen and looked back at his notes, feigning great interest in the notes he was having a hard time reading.

"Well, I see you're having no trouble at all focusing with a crazed vampire locked upstairs."

"Angel is hardly crazed, Cordelia."

"I wasn't talking-"

"I know you weren't. But we both acquiesced to Angel's wishes, so there's really no point in talking about it." Despite his attitude, Wesley wanted nothing more than to gossip about the newest development with Cordy, but his pride was proving to be quite the blockade for him. She should have just said something instead of acting like a child then picking a fight.

"What, you're not even a little curious that there's probably more going on here? I mean come on." Cordelia gave him an expectant look, but he just readjusted his glasses and continued to pretend to know what he was looking at.

Suddenly, the brunette grabbed her hair, with a pained expression on her face

"Ahhh, ooh no! I see-I see-" Wesley jumped up from the table to steady her, and gently prompted for details.

"Cordy, what do you see? Just-any details, quick!"

"I see-" Cordy looked him straight in the eye, suddenly not looking so pained- "A really high strung brit who hasn't been laid in the past ever. He needs someone to remove the stick up his ass."

Wesley rolled his eyes and sat back down in his chair, giving Cordy a dirty look.

Truth be told, it was very refreshing to be bantering with Cordelia again. Things always seemed to be either boiling or freezing over at the Hyperion these days. The past week or so had been a nice respite from all that, and the blonde vampire upstairs threatened all that.

Hence, why he was reluctant to speak with Cordy about it, despite his desire to do just that.

Sighing, Wesley gave Cordelia a measured look, then excitedly leaned in conspiratorially.

"Do you think it has to do with the Gem of Amara? Spike doesn't know Angel broke it."

000

Angel paused after opening Spike's door, before he could sense that Spike was indeed awake. He slipped in and shut the door quietly, setting a first aid box down on the bed.

"Your humans sure do like to flap their jaws." Spike commented, injecting as much snark as he could into his remark. "Broke the gem, did you? Should have known."

"I think they forget about the whole vampire-hearing thing." Angel chuckled for a moment as he heard Cordy hypothesize about what Spike might be up to. "Very creative of her."

Spike put his head back against the headboard, forming a clever response about hiring her to help him out with his next scheme, before abandoning it.

Sarcasm took so much effort.

Angel noticed this, and nearly sighed. It was uncomfortable to see Spike like this. Not that he hadn't seen Spike injured-in fact, he'd been the cause of it on multiple occasions-but more than that, he just looked defeated.

"Those demons really did a demon on you. Anything we should worry about?"

Spike closed his eyes, wondering if Angel was going to use that first aid box now or if he had a time for a nap.

"No, purely a Sunnyhell resident. Bet the scoobies are takin care of it now." The thought brought him some comfort. The Slayer had a… loyal enough group around her. They wouldn't let her do anything stupid while he was gone. And Dawn would be fine. Hadn't needed him much since the Blond Bitch had gotten back anyway.

Funny how completely disposable he was.

"Well, that's good then. Wouldn't mind having a crack at it myself, seeing the number it did to you-must have been a good fight."

Angel was shamelessly phishing, and they both knew it. He was giving Spike plenty of opportunities to just say everything that happened, gaining the moral high ground early in case something went wrong. Not that he wouldn't be able to claim said ground whether or not he really deserved it. Perks of being a hero and all.

"Look peaches… I'm not really lookin for a session with Dr. Broody. Just leave the kit and let the door hit you on the way out." Angel saw Spike's jaw set, and pushed the kit over to him.

"Alright, have it your way. And take a shower, I can smell the sewers on you."

Angel noted again that Spike didn't bother with a snide reply- not even an annoyed look. Spike just ignored him, and even looked at the far wall probably to emphasize his desire for Angel to leave.

"And Spike… I know you can break the lock on this door, but don't." Angel gave Spike a heavy look, and waited for him to turn back and nod in understanding, maybe even agreement, before closing it and locking it from the outside.

_Just bloody brilliant._

Rome, 1882

"I'm so proud of you, my William." Drusilla purred contentedly into William's ear, sending chills of pleasure up his spine. She'd been praising him all day for his act of obeisance to Angelus, and every time she did he felt a mixture of shame and joy. He wished she'd just drop it, but it gave him a thrill to see her so pleased.

Even Darla had given him a look of approval before leaving with Angelus. William wasn't partial to her one way or the other, but that look stayed with him. He'd finally done something to prove himself to her, even a little. William didn't know what Angelus thoughts were on the whole thing. He hoped what Angelus said was true-that things wouldn't really change, that he wouldn't be expected to act like Dru or a minion. They'd had a sometimes uncomfortable and often perplexing kind of friendship, but for the most part they just had fun together. They both enjoyed taking a break from the girls on occasion, and they had similar tastes when it came to having a good time.

If Angelus hadn't slept with Dru, Will probably wouldn't have wanted to leave so badly and gone on to rebel against Angelus. After all, William had considered him his mentor and his friend.

Drusilla gave him a sweet kiss on his temple, pulling him from his musings, her eyes expecting a response to a statement he'd almost forgotten about.

"Yeah, well… Anything for you, Pet." William, hoping she knew he meant it, pressed his face into the top of her head, and breathed in her scent deeply. Then rested his head back on the couch's throw pillow as Dru adjusted her position, wrapping a leg through his and settling her head down on his chest.

Lazily lacing his fingers through Dru's hair, William decided he wouldn't care anymore. He wouldn't care that Drusilla had chosen Angelus over him. He wouldn't care that his 'family' had abandoned him. He wouldn't care about the humiliating display he'd been forced to give in front of his beloved.

He would just care about this. This moment-feeling Drusilla slip into sleep, the feeling of her purr's soft vibrations reaching his still heart, the feeling of belonging.

_This is what matters, and I'm never buggering it up again. I'll play by Angelus's rules, until I've completely erased him from Drusilla's heart. _

Even as he thought it, he wondered if it was possible. Angelus was just too _big_.

William traced a line from Dru's head to her back, imagining pulling her heart out and washing it of Angelus's scent until only his remained.

LA, present day

The water absolutely burned his open wounds, but it had to be done. He winced and clenched his fist when the water his tender shoulder. He looked something like ground beef without his heavily clothing shielding his wounds from his eyes. Refusing to whimper but allowing a manly sort of growl, Spike rubbed the shoulder raw, trying to remove the various muck it had acquired. Spike wasn't quite brave enough to use any kind of soap or antiseptic quite yet, but he knew he needed to clean the wounds enough that it wouldn't get infected. Being a corpse, an infection could take months to chase away. He never had tried to really understand the anatomy of a vampire, but he knew enough to know sometimes it was just a big pain in the neck.

And that even though none of these wounds would kill him, they hurt like they would. Travelling in his beat up state-first through the sewers, then in the DeSoto, then around the Hyperion when he'd first arrived-had seriously aggravated his injuries. The vampires had also managed to widen several of the lacerations and deepen the bruises Buffy had given him.

Buffy.

Shaking his head violently, Spike decided he was feeling clean enough and limped out of the shower, roughly grabbing several towels. He almost slipped but managed to catch himself on the sink. Once he regained his balance, he looked into the mirror.

He stared at the empty mirror for a minute, unable to continue out of the room. Part of that was his ankle, screaming for him to shift his stance, stand on one foot, SOMETHING, just get his weight off of it. Part of it was the overall aching and pounding he felt all over his body, and the unsettling churning in his abdomen. Definitely something wrong there.

Most of it, though, was the understanding. It was real. All this was happening. He was really in Angel's domain, of his own free will. Relying on him like a bloody fledge.

Spike sat down on the ground, trying not to process the shame he was feeling.

_Doesn't matter. None of it matters. Just using the poof. Usin' an' abusin'. The bloody dark knight oughtta be pleased, that's how our lot show affection. _

Spike slumped down onto the ground, giving his ankle respite but barely noticing. He stared up at the ceiling as if it held the answers, but found no advice there.

Spike pressed his forehead into his knees, forcing out the dark feelings that were welling up inside him. Wouldn't do to lose his cool and get kicked out, 'specially with the sun feeling so burny today.

_It's fine. Just using him, then when I'm healed I can, I'll…_ Spike grabbed the sides of his heads with his hands, and curled himself in a tight ball. _ Why do I always do this to myself? Why do I always get myself in these situations? Why am I so bloody STUPID?_ Spike lashed out at the wall, driving his fist into the plaster, and let it rest there, feeling the fight drain out of him.

It took a bit, but he was finally able to convince himself that things were fine. He wasn't in the humiliating situation he'd been forced into so many times in his… acquaintanceship with Captain Forehead. Not like before. _Just usin' him. Not relyin on him. Don't need him. Jus' convenient is all_.

Spike started slightly at the thought. Convenient. Hah. Slayer was more like them than she liked to admit.

Spike carefully raked his hands through his hair, simultaneously calming himself and checking to see if there were any head injuries he could blame this whole situation on.

There were. _Wonderful._

000

Angel returned to his room, hoping to get some sleep before Wesley and Cordelia's curiosity got the better of them and they decided to spy on the blond vampire. They knew better than to wake Angel on purpose to satisfy their curiosity (or really for any reason), but their antics often did it for them.

He still couldn't figure out Spike's game. He was hiding something, that much was obvious. His injuries were unnatural, for one thing. Angel couldn't recreate the fight in his mind for the life of him. It just didn't make sense.

He laid down on his bed heavily, almost wishing for the days when he could just _make _Spike tell him everything. The boy always been easy to manipulate back in the day. But now, with no Drusilla, no blood bond, and no authority (moral or otherwise) to beat him to a pulp to get what he wanted _(and no inclination, right? I wouldn't enjoy doing something like that. Ahem.), _Angel was just going to have to either wait for Spike to tell him, or become okay with never knowing the whole story.

Angel stared up at his ceiling for a moment, before closing his eyes and waiting to fall back asleep. There were more important things to brood about than Spike, anyway.

Rome, 1882

After having welcomed William back into the family, Darla and Angelus were relishing their autonomy. Drusilla had been an absolute handful without her handler. Darla hadn't realized how dependent they'd gotten on him to keep her occupied. Drusilla was always demanding their time and attention in some fashion, probably punishing them for driving William away. Not that she'd put up a fight for him.

They'd spent the day in a neighboring house, avoiding the sunlight and killing the owners, and now that it was night they were thrilled to be back out on the hunt, just the two of them.

"Time to go." Darla thought for a moment Angelus meant it was time to return back home, but quickly realized his meaning.  
"Why, Angelus? The churches getting too bold?" Darla smiled sweetly at her lover, but looked pointedly at the nun at his feet. Her fingers stretched out unnaturally towards a stake and a cross, which she would now never reach.

"No. Just bored, is all. Besides, we accomplished what we came here for anyway." Angelus looked up at the sky, apparently deciding where he wanted to go next. "I'm thinking… Somewhere cold. With snow."

Darla delicately wiped her bloodied lips with her handkerchief, before discarding it on the pallid form at her feet.

"Angelus… why did you spare William? I am a bit relieved-Drusilla has been quite the trial."

"That's part of the reason-William is better than valium for her. He's so adorably obsessed with his 'dark princess,' who knows if we'd be able to train a new fledge to have what he came with?"

Angelus wrapped his arms around her small frame, his heavy coat enveloping her. Darla loved when he held her like this, like she was about to be lost or buried within him. She sunk against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her-she'd have already been crushed were she human. Having just fed, the heat rolled off his body, almost making Darla forget her curiosity.

"You said that's part of the reason." Darla looked up at him whimsically, dropping her demon face.

Angelus grinned down at her, his cruel eyes contrasting his angelic visage. He could look more like a demon than any of them without even sharpening a tooth.

"He's just so stupid, Darla. " Angelus leaned over her, pressing her more firmly to him, and breathing in the scent off her. "Stupid and loyal." He grabbed the back of her neck, lacing his fingers through her hair. She slowly turned her head to the side, revealing her pale neck. "Like a mutt." He pressed now sharp teeth into the nape of her neck, just hard enough to dimple the skin, and dragged his fangs over freshly made scars. Darla quivered below him, taking in deep breaths herself, reveling in his musk. He always smelled intoxicating after a kill. "I want to see how far he'll go." he muttered distractedly. Darla barely heard him, becoming so aware of his hands and his teeth, waiting in anticipation for what she knew would come next.

He teased her for several more seconds before he finally tore into Darla's neck, drinking deeply and wishing he wasn't already so full.

LA, Present Day

Spike never even tried to leave his room. Angel would bring him blood and fresh bandages, Spike would say something slightly more insulting than what he'd said the last time Angel had delivered the goods, and Angel would leave. Wesley, Cordelia, Gunn and Fred gave up trying to uncover what was 'really going on' and focused on the demons at hand. It only took them a few days to adjust.

Angel was a bit concerned. Spike wasn't healing like he should, probably because he still couldn't keep the blood down. Plus, he was definitely starting to develop an infection. He probably wasn't using the antiseptic. At this rate, it would be more than just a week or two for him to get 'fightin ready' as he'd called it.

"Don't you worry your little nancy-boy soul there, Angel. I'll keep my word. I'm known for it, you know, unlike some. I'll be out of your gelled hair before the hotel starts to soak up all my evil influences."

Their interchanges had gotten steadily more heated over the last few days, coming almost to blows on a few occasions before Spike would turn his face and look at the far wall, as if pretending Angel wasn't even there. This angered him to almost no end, and he considered not giving him blood this time. Not like he'd be able to keep it down.

Spike just ignored him, and Angel left the packet on the bed before slamming Spike's door shut and locking it violently.

After a few minutes, Spike felt himself tense as the sound of the key entered into the lock again. Bracing himself for another verbal fight, he was surprised to see Angel looking almost contrite.

"Look, Spike. First off, don't say anything because it'd just piss me off. Your ankle looks like its begun to heal-at least enough to hobble around." Angel put the key to the door in his pocket, and regarded Spike for a minute, as though trying to make a decision. "I'm not going to lock the door-you can wander around while I'm awake if you're feeling up to it. Might be good for you, I don't know. Just don't leave the hotel, because I won't go track you down and you won't survive the night. But if you do feel like you have to leave, your car is parked out back, keys in the glove box." Angel turned from Spike again, ignoring his complete lack of anything resembling gratitude or a desire to reconcile, and joined his team downstairs.

If nothing else, the ball was in Spike's court now. If he was going to try anything, now was his chance.

000

Spike waited another two days before venturing down stairs. Only Fred and Wesley were down there. Angel was in some room brooding, and the other two had been gone for the whole evening, probably on some mission.

"The poof didn't bring me any blood today." Was Spike's greeting. He sat at the bottom of the steps, wondering if he'd be able to convince one of them to bring him a bag of blood or if they'd make him do it.

"Oh, I see!" Fred turned around quickly, betraying her skiddishness, and skittered over to the fridge. Spike almost smiled at her-she was just the type he'd like to corner in an alley. All adrenaline and unsorted hormones. It was almost enough to alleviate the deep-rooted bad mood Spike had been in all evening.

"No need to heat it love, just gonna vomit it up later anyway. Still, gotta keep trying." Despite his advice, Fred had already poured some of it into a mug, and decided to heat it anyway.

"Well, uh, maybe warm blood will stay down uh, better."

_Yeah, bet it would._ Wesley must have caught the thought passing Spike's face, because he moved protectively in front of Fred. Protectively? No, more like possessively. And Spike saw the flash in his eyes below the glasses-he was looking for a fight.

"Angel mentioned he wasn't locking you up anymore. Does it feel good to have your leash lengthened?" Wesley probably hoped to remind Spike (and possibly himself) that he was no threat to them.

"Sure does, Watcher. Look at all the toys I have in my yard." Spike sneered up at Wesley from his spot on the floor, affected by Wesley's words on a deeper level he'd ever admit.

The two glared at each other, measuring each other up, and the tension heightened with the 'ding' of the microwave.

"Well, here ya go, Spike!" Fred passed the mug to Spike, who held it carefully as he tried to stand. He wobbled momentarily, but was finally able to get his feet under him.

"Back to your pen so soon, Spikey?" Wesley couldn't help but jab. He'd been deeply annoyed before Spike had ventured downstairs, and was quietly enjoying taking out his frustrations on the vampire, hoping he would lash out and a fight would ensue.

"Why, wanting to join me?" Spike put as much meaning as he could into the words, equal parts insulting and intimidating. "Sorry, not my type. Too pretty boy. If I wanted a girl, I'd just ask Fred here."

Wesley was on him in seconds, knocking the blood from his hands and grabbing him by the collar.

"Wesley, stop! Angel!" Fred ran back behind the stairs somewhere out of sight.

"Give it a rest, glasses. You've convinced the girl of your manliness, so you can do us both a favor and shove off before I _make_ you." Spike snarled and morphed into his demon face, ignoring his body screaming at him to relax.

"Ohmygawd, is Spike evil?" Cordelia and Gunn ran in through the front door, throwing some talisman-y looking things onto the table, and grabbing some weapons.

"'Course I'm evil, you half-wits!" Spike yelled as he tried to remove himself from Wesley's grip without setting off the chip.

"Well now that we're on the same page-Cordy, stake please!"

Enraged, Spike balled up his fist, wondering if he had enough strength to kill the prick before his headache incapacitated him and the rest killed him. At least he wouldn't go to hell alone.

"Alright, that's enough." Angel shoved Wesley off of Spike, and grabbed a handful of Spikes shirt, keeping him from slinking off. "Wesley, go somewhere to work off this mood you're in. I've been this close all evening to killing you myself." Wesley folded his arms rebelliously, and clenched his jaw shut. "Gunn, Cordy, I'm going to need that report from you. Fred, please clean up this blood if you're not too busy." Seemingly remembering the vampire in his hands, Angel turned on him. "And you. First day out and already picking fights?"

Spike didn't reply, instead he turned his head off to the side-away from the humans-and refused to make eye-contact.

This deepened Angel's irritation, and he gave Spike a good shake, which caused Spike to lose balance. Angel held him up easily, trying to figure out what he should do with him.

The peace the Hyperion had been enjoying had ended a few days ago. Tensions were high again, and enemies were closing in. This was no time to have a questionable, volatile vampire roaming around.

"Alright Spike, fine." Angel changed his grip on Spike, grabbing him by the neck, and forced him to walk backwards towards the door. Spike tripped again, his bad ankle making a sickening noise, but Angel didn't let up. "I told you one slip and you're out." It was about here that Spike began to panic, and rip at Angel's hands and face, almost feral.

They were just about up the steps now, Spike still being forced out backwards. He growled and snapped at Angel's hands, trying to release his grip, but it was no use.

"No sun to throw you out into, but hey-night in LA is just about as fun." Angel shoved Spike into the wall beside the front door, hand tightening on his throat, before letting him go roughly.

Yelling incoherently, Spike took the opportunity to lunge at Angel, no thoughts or plans entering his mind. The unprocessed emotions and bottled up anger from his stay thus far egged him on, goading him and pressuring him to just destroy something.

"What, hoping I'll kill ya so you don't have to face the scary outside world?" Angel grabbed Spikes wrist and twisted it up cruelly behind his back, stopping just before it broke. "Hoping for me to make it easier for you?" Spike yelled out in pain as his shoulder was forced out of its socket, but continued to glare murderously at Angel, unable to move.

The new pain and the decreased mobility allowed Spike to fight through the fog that had entered his mind and think clearly for a moment. He was starving. He couldn't walk-definitely couldn't drive, he'd pass out and crash. Couldn't feed himself. Didn't have a single person to trust. He was about to be completely alone and totally helpless yet again.

He willed the fight to drain out of him, and finally turned his head away from Angel, and pinched his eyes shut.

"Just going to ignore me again? What is wrong with you, Spike?"

Spike started, and slowly turned back to Angel, his eyes reflecting confusion.

"You…" Spike swallowed roughly, "You screwing with me?"

This time Angel took on the confused look, and he lessened his grip on Spike's arm.

"What are you talking about?"

Spike cast his eyes around the room, wishing not for the first time for privacy during this particular moment. Not this time, apparently.

"Always liked a bloody audience, didn't you…" Spike moved his free hand to Angel's, and gently pried it off. Angel, not knowing why but understanding that Spike wasn't going to fight him, permitted his hand to be removed.

Spike took a step back, stared down at the ground for a moment, then collapsed.

Angel thought for a moment that he had feinted, and was about to try and pull him up, before he realized what Spike was doing.

"Oh, Spike…" Angel muttered, memories long repressed surfacing.

Spike hadn't been ignoring Angel, he'd been baring his neck. An act of submission. Those obviously hadn't gotten through, so Spike was taking more direct action.

Angel felt the erstwhile forgotten feel of Spike pressing his forehead to Angel's shoes, before he sat up.

"I, William, Childe of Angelus of the order Aurelius, humbly beg Angelus to be allowed back into his presence and graces, as minion and servant."

Angel watched detachedly as William once again bared his throat, waiting for Angel to make his decision. He'd caught the use of their old names-he'd done so purposefully. Appealing to past promises of family and protection.

Promises that had long been broken and buried. Promises that had no place in the Hyperion Hotel.

Angel couldn't feel the stunned stares of his employees. He couldn't even feel the guilt or embarrassment that should be overwhelming him. Finally, he spoke with an aura of definite authority.

"No, William."

Spike let out a breath and closed his eyes, but didn't get up from his spot. If Angel didn't accept him back, he could at least do the polite thing and kill him, instead of forcing him out onto the street.

"Not as servant." Angel bent over and raised him to his feet steadily. Angry bruises and cuts still marred his face, which was still turned away in submission and humility. It had been over a century since he'd seen that particular look on Spike.

Angel leaned in and took the offered neck, careful of neighboring bruises, and fed lightly from Spike. He had next to nothing left in his veins, so Angel stopped after just a taste.

Then, opening a vein on his own wrist, he offered it to Spike, a serious look in his eye.

"As a Childe. If you're sure."

For a moment, Angel thought Spike might refuse the offered wrist. There was almost a dignity to asking to be a part of Angel's clan as a servant. It would be temporary, it would be meaningless-a business transaction. Services rendered, price paid, etc. But to be a childe again?

Still, neither Angel nor Angelus could allow Spike to be a mere minion. Too many reasons, most of them illogical or unexplainable. He'd have to think of something, as this exchange had happened in front of his humans-his employees, rather. Angel briefly reminded himself to never let that slip happen out loud.

Spike finally took the proffered wrist, and drank deeply.

As he drank he knew this would stay down, his body would never be able to reject it. This was _sire's_ blood. There was magic in Sire's blood-he'd felt it that first time, in Rome, when he'd drank from Angelus for the first time. William latched on tightly to his wrist, holding Angel's forearm with his good hand to hold it steady.

_How had I gone so long without this?_ He could feel the blood coursing through him, working on his internal injuries, mending crushed or severed intestines and muscles. He used every ounce of strength he had to draw as much blood as possible from his once-again-sire. His vision was darkening; his shoulder was still dislocated, and his ankle was now definitely broken. Not long before he passed out.

_God… I'm home_. He thought to himself before finally succumbing to mixed feelings of euphoria and pain.

He didn't hear what Angelus said before the darkness claimed him, but he already knew.

_Obedience for responsibility._


	4. Still

Rome, 1882

William eyed the blond vampire before him again, opening his mouth briefly before shutting it again and turning away. Darla noticed this action but politely ignored it. She knew what was on his mind. She picked up a few pieces of jewelry that she found particularly enchanting and slipped them in the small bag she carried her luggage in. William, for his part, had already finished packing several minutes ago, and was just pretending to at this point. He picked up another shirt, re-folded it, and put it back in the bag.

"Nothing much will change, William. Angelus said it; you're not a minion or anything."

This is what confused William. After the blood exchange, Angelus was back to his old self he always had been.

He treated William like… Well, like his mate. Like last night, their last night in Rome before Angelus announced their next destination. They had gone out to a pub, gotten absolutely smashed, and picked up some barmaids. They'd walked all through town with the wenches, making absolute asses of themselves and picking fights on the street. Then, after they'd walked the women to their dwellings, they'd just started back for home-forgetting to feed. When they'd realized their mistake, they'd just looked at each other and laughed and laughed until some coppers came to give them a hard time. Once they'd had a good feed they'd started for home, relishing in the memory of it all.

It was bizarre. It was like William had never left, and he was back to being the 'male companion' Angelus had said he wanted when they'd first met.

Now that was a memory. Angelus had just been this dark, hulking figure in the half-light. He knew nothing of the vampire except he was _dangerous _and _powerful._

William didn't know at the time how obsessed Dru was with him. Didn't know he'd only been allowed to live because he'd be Dru's caretaker and playmate so Darla an Angelus could have more freedom. Didn't know he was to be Angelus's drinking partner and companion in the more testosterone-driven nights of debauchery.

Didn't know he'd swear obedience to him and then… nothing.

"I get that I'm not a minion," William started, trying to sort out his thoughts. "But everything was so intense that night. I don't know what I expected, but it's like-It's like nothing ever happened."

"And this displeases you?" Darla raised her eyebrow questioningly. She found this specimen so entertaining. He had definitely been a poet in his mortal life-it showed at times like this, when he spent time trying to puzzle things out other would just ignore.

"No, of course not. I just-I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope, and any second my feet will fall out from below me." William sat down on the bed, and looked up at Darla with confused eyes. "What does your bond with Angelus mean? I mean, rightfully _you're_ his sire."

Sighing, Darla sat beside William, and tried to think up the simplest way to explain the situation to him.

"You see, it's like…"

LA, Present Day

"A lion's pride?" Cordy and Gunn looked at Wesley with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, I'm not a zoologist or anything, but from what I understand vampire society-at least on a small scale-is much like a lion's pride. One male is the dominant, and the rest of the lions are members of his pride. They are under his protection should a threat attack. The rest do things such as hunt to earn a place in the pride. After sometime in a vampire's family, some may leave-either of their own accord or some other reason-and try to start their own. Male lion's do this when they are grown up, they leave and try to take over another pride. So, for Spike to rejoin Angel's 'pride' for lack of better terminology, he has to return as a fledge, or a childe. Otherwise he'd have to be a minion."

"I guess they do sound like lion's sometimes, when they growl and purr and stuff." Cordy took another sip of her tea, trying to understand their new dynamics.

"I don't think lions purr, Cordy. And do vampires purr?" Gunn looked up at Wesley, who shrugged.

"I wouldn't know. When have you heard a vampire purr, Cordelia?"

Cordelia scrunched her eyes, trying to remember.

"Uhhh…. I think it was… Oh, it was after Doyle died." Cordelia dropped her eyes, her mood shifting. "Angel was trying to comfort me I think, and he started to purr. He looked really embarrassed and said that hadn't happened in a while."

Wesley looked interested, and pulled out a book about vampire physiology. Gunn rolled his eyes and tried to think of a way to change the topic. This was just weird-vampires purring?

"What I want to know, is what this has to do with us? I mean, Angel's our boss and all, but I'm not going to take orders from blondy."

"I don't think much will change for us. Our place in Angel's clan is already established; adding a childe shouldn't disrupt the flow."

Cordy nearly choked on her drink, and Gunn stood up in surprise.

"His clan? What are you talkin about, English?"

Wesley looked at them both, surprised.

"Didn't you know? This is Angel's domain now, this hotel, and we all have rooms here to stay in if we have need. Fred and Gunn more so than us, as they are permanent residents. From what I understand, by Vampire custom, that makes us a part of Angel's clan."

Cordelia put a hand to her head, trying to sort out what Wesley was saying.

"What, is that just a weird way of saying Angel thinks of us as family? Or are you saying we're minions? Because that would NOT look good on a resume."

"I aint no one's minion."

"No no no, not minions. And… Oh, I don't know. To be honest, I really only learned enough about Vampire society to learn how to destroy it or use it against them. Like, which members to target in a clan for it to fall a part, or, what kind of bonds signified a special relationship that could be turned against them, that kind of thing."

Cordelia thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"I'm just gonna go with 'Angel likes us and thinks of us as family.' Lot easier to understand."

Gunn mirrored Cordelia's gesture and sat beside her, wishing he'd never brought it up.

Vampires were just _weird_.

000

Angel almost sighed, wondering what to do with Spike. There wasn't really a place for him here in the Hyperion-not yet, anyway. The younger vampire was spralwed out on his bed, Angel having roughly dropped him there after carrying him upstairs. He'd managed to pop his shoulder back into place and bind up his broken ankle, but that was about all he could do for him. The rest was up to Spike.

He'd have to confront Spike soon about the nature of his injuries. Maybe not today, but soon.

Spike submitting to him had brought back many memories, including some of a much younger version of the blond vampire sporting similar injuries.

Angel knew now how Spike had gotten beaten so badly, he just didn't know why or by whom. Something wasn't adding up.

Paris, 1882

Darla had been right. Not much had changed. Except…

If Angelus was in a particularly rotten mood, he had a lot less patience for William than had historically been the case. Not that he'd been a saint before when it came to temperance and self control, but now…

Like today, for example.

Angelus had stalked into the house and wordlessly stomped up the stairs. Drusilla and Darla were out of town for the weekend, so William had no one to ask about his Sire's behavior.

After a few moments, William heard the sound of furniture being destroyed. His curiosity getting the better of his sense, he quietly stalked up the stairs and pushed Angelus's door open.

Obviously knowing he was there long before William had opened the door, Angelus grabbed the collar of Will's shirt and threw him into the wall.

"What do you want, feckin' gobshite?"

Nearly swallowing his tongue, Will wondered if he'd just be able to make it past Angelus and down the stairs. His body was screaming at him to try and run for it, but he forced himself to calm.

"Just uh-just wonderin' what all the fuss is about, Angelus." If his heart was capable of it, it'd be hammering away like a jackrabbits. He'd seen Angelus angry before, of course, but he'd never been quite this cornered during such an episode.

"Just come to cheer me up, then? Talk to dear ol' sire 'bout his feelins?" Angelus stood in the frame of the door, his hulking form silhouetted by the light behind him. It reminded William of the night they'd met, when he'd put their hands in the sun. William understood now that had been Angelus in a playful mood.

This was nothing like that. His eyes were black and unresponsive, and his whole body teemed with tension. Like a rope about to snap. Gotta find a way out of here.

"Right, well, guess I'll just sod off then." William made a move for the door, but Angelus closed it. Swallowing slowly, Will tried to remember the lessons he'd received about fighting a vampire.

As Angelus had been the one teaching him, Will didn't like his chances.

"Why not stay and have a chat with me then, Willie boy? Or are your English sensibilities too refined for the company of your bog-trottin sire?" Race. Angelus always did this. Will sometimes wondered if he actually did have an inferiority complex or something. Not that he'd ever wonder out loud.

"'Course not, just… it's obviously a bad time. Interrupted your uh… destruction." William eyed the broken furniture around the room, and wondered how he could possibly defuse the situation. "But uh, we could… go get a beer?" William looked up hopefully at Angelus, but knew it wasn't working. "Look Angelus, just let me go and I won't bug you again." Will took another step towards the door, but Angelus didn't move out of the way. Escaping through the window was looking like an option.

Angelus could obviously see this plan on his face, because he took the opportunity to smack William to the ground.

"Th' 'ell was that for?" Standing up, Will felt his own anger raise. And with it, his sense of self preservation and intelligence dropped down considerably. "You want to sulk on your own, I get it, so get out of my way and I'll go spend the night with some more pleasant company!" Will stopped himself before making an insinuation that he'd go find Darla for such company. He'd never dared to say such a thing so far, but Angelus was being a complete wanker.

"You know boy, you're really startin to-" Angelus grabbed the collar of Will's shirt again, and pushed him up against the wall. "-piss me off. Can't for the life of me remember why I didn't kill you back in Rome-or London, for that matter." Angelus gave him another hard shake, and Will's head smacked hard against the stone wall.

"Angelus-"

"In fact, I should just-" Angelus cut himself off, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Nah. Killin' you's too easy. I should just banish you again, watch you sulk in the distance. I could ban Drusilla from even talking to you, you know. And she'd do it. You'd never hear her voice again. I wouldn't set the churches on you this time, either. Just let you starve yourself out, watching your 'destiny' forget all about her white knight." Angelus's hand closed around William's small neck, and his eyes lit with excitement as Will's filled with fear. Angelus was serious. "Whaddya say, ya feckin English bastard? Would ya prefer I just kill ya now?" The grip on his neck tightened, and Will uselessly tried to pull his hands off.

Will desperately tried to say something, but Angelus put a hand to his ear and feigned interest.  
"Sorry, can't hear you, say again?"

Finally, Angelus let up on his grip on William's windpipe enough to let him speak.

"I'm your-your childe now, Angelus. Can't just-can't-"

Angelus let out a full throated laugh, and nearly dropped Will. This reaction William had not expected, and he stared in confusion at his obviously cracked sire.

"See, this is why I let you back-so stupid, so stupid I just can't find it in myself to kill ya off." Finally it was too much for Angelus, and he dropped his grip on Will entirely, and brought his hands to his sides, still laughing.

William rubbed his raw throat, and stared at his sire for another beat before making another move for the door.

Angelus kicked at William's knee, making him buckle, and placed a foot firmly on his back.

"Didn't say you could leave, boy." The mirth in his voice was almost completely gone, replaced with the black anger from before. Will forced himself not to shake from the fear that travelled up his spine.

"What was the-what was the point of all… all _that_-" Will gestured vaguely with his hand, referring to the night he'd submitted to Angelus, "if you were just going to kick me out again?"

"Well it wasn't my idea for you to come crawling back, you did that all on your own, little Willie." Angelus shoved his foot sharply into Will's back, then removed it and crouched down beside him. "That was all your plan to win back your sweet little Dru. I saw that look in your eyes and couldn't help myself; knew you'd be worth another bit of excitement." Angelus grabbed William by his hair, and lifted up his head sharply, exposing his neck. "Made me wonder how far you'd go for her." Angelus murmured the last line wistfully, making Will wonder if his anger had finally ebbed. Maybe after a few threats and some violence, he'd had enough and would let Will go now.

Instead, he pulled up again sharply and forced Will to stand. Well, almost stand. His head was bent down at an awful angle, and his body had to semi-crouch to compensate. Angelus didn't seem to notice, just held him there. William's fists clenched by his side, and he waited for Angelus to speak again.

"If I did throw you out they'd ask me why. I could say you were being defiant-tried to attack me." Angelus considered the fledge before him, twisting painfully below him in his iron grasp. It was almost enough to improve his mood. "Be a bit more believable if I had some injuries from the attack." Suddenly, Angelus released William with a push, sending him careening backwards.

The edges of Angelus's lips were pulled up, exposing his now sharpened teeth.

"Come on then Will, hit me. I know you're dyin to. Show this paddy you're no one's whipping boy."  
From some corner of Will's mind, he knew it was very bad that Angelus was baiting him this way. They'd had scraps before. The only serious one was after Angelus had slept with Dru. Other than that it varied from good-natured rough-housing to not-so-good-natured rough-housing. They'd called each other various degrading slurs and insults on these occasions, especially when they were drunk, but that had felt entirely different.

What was Angelus's angle?

All he knew was there was no way he was going to hit him, because it was _exactly_ what Angelus wanted, and that did not bode well for him.

So, William gritted his teeth and closed his eyes when Angelus balled his fist and hit him in the jaw. It felt it dislocate and some bone in his cheek break, but he resisted the urge to fight back.

_Just think of dru, he thought to himself._

"What a regular hero. I might fall for you myself, Nancy." Angelus stomped on Will's foot, holding him in place, and hit him again, this time with all his strength. Will should have gone flying back, but the foot on his kept him in place.

"Not gonna give you a reason ta throw me out, Angelus." Will managed to spit out before Angelus caught him in the ribs.

Again, Angelus laughed, dark and low

"You just don't _get_ it, Willie. I don't _need_ a reason." Angelus grabbed Will by the dislocated jaw, and held him upright so his feet dangled a few inches off the ground, and his eyes were just centimeters below his own. "I _own_ you. Not just because of Dru, though I have to admit that is a nice addition to it all for me." Throwing him down to the ground again, Angelus waited for William to pick himself up before continuing. "Not even because of the blood trade."

Angelus watched William try to puzzle out the meaning of his words, but knew it was of no use. Will didn't know himself too well.

"If I want to throw you in the sun, I can throw you in the sun. If I want to put you in a box and starve you for eternity, that's what I do. If I want to banish you and forbid Dru from even thinking about you again, I can do that!" Angelus watched with reserved pleasure as fear and hurt crossed William's face. Mental and emotional scars always lasted longer than physical ones.

_Still…_

Angelus kicked at Will's knee again, forcing him down to the ground yet again.

"I can be persuaded, though. Be a good little boy and maybe I'll let you stick around a bit longer."

_Physical pain was just so satisfying._

000

William hadn't been able to get out of bed several weeks. Fledges took so long to heal, especially when they weren't being fed properly. Angelus had made it clear to him in that room, that if he wanted to stay, he had to take Angelus's beating without complaint, defense, or retaliation. When he was finally satisfied, he left Will in a pile of his own blood, not bothering to scrape him off the floor. Angelus eventually came back when the sun rose, but he didn't even acknowledge William on the ground. He just slid into his bed and slept like a baby, probably relishing the occasional moan of pain that escaped Will's lips.

Halfway through the night, Will was able to pull himself into a sitting position, and he leaned up against Angelus's bed, thinking. He wasn't sure how, but he'd done it. He'd managed to hold still and not fight back while Angelus worked out whatever angst he'd had built up. It was demeaning and awful, but it was worth it. Well, he'd find out when Dru came home if it was worth it.

Finally, William got enough strength up to pull himself up to the foot of Angelus's bed and flopped down. Angelus stirred, but didn't wake. The four of them had shared the same bed on occasion, craving the closeness and security it offered, when things seemed dangerous. Especially after the blood trade, William had found special comfort in sleeping in the same room as his family.

When night finally fell, Angelus woke and found William still at the foot of the bed, curled in on himself. William hadn't disappointed; the boy was exactly what Angelus had suspected.

Darla and Drusilla returned just before dawn. William hadn't moved from his spot on the bed, but Darla and Dru didn't question him or Angelus. No need. It was apparent from his wounds exactly what had happened.

They came and they went, and Drusilla told him how happy she was that William had been good while she was gone. Darla took some time to explain to him what it was that had upset Angelus so. William didn't really care anymore, and only half listened. He was mostly grateful because she was in-touch enough to treat his wounds, which were slow to heal.

That night, Dru and Darla both joined Angelus in his large bed. They were tired from their trip, which William was grateful for, as he definitely would have to find a way to leave if they got up to any funny business. William stayed at the foot of the bed, trying to understand what it was Angelus's had said to him, but eventually gave it up as the ravings of a lunatic.

_Great_, he thought to himself. _I've got an insane girlfriend, an aloof… whatever Darla is to me, and my only friend is occasionally a sadistic bastard._

_Still…. _

William stretched out slightly on the morning of the third day, enjoying the fact that it didn't cause him to hurl from pain.

"Still lazing about at home, I see, William." Angelus set down a cup of mug and a beer, then left. "Special treat to help you heal."

Will could smell it before he'd even picked it up; sire's blood. It wasn't an apology and it wasn't a peace offering, Will knew that. Angelus was just bored and wanted his drinking buddy back. Cruel and selfish.

_Still…_

"Oh, don't drink it, Will. I like having you at home in bed all day, where I know where you are…" Dru smiled at him dreamily, odd thoughts and expressions on her face.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dru. We can't have Will be a kept, stay-at-home vampire. The sooner he heals, the sooner we can go on a family hunt." Darla smiled at William, excitement in her tone. She was always a fan of the family hunt.

Despite it all. The selfishness, the cruelty, the insults on top of injury…

Will closed his eyes, a smile gracing his lips as he slipped into sleep

Home.

Family.

Belonging.

LA present day

"Angel, finally. Please tell me you have a way of explaining this that doesn't involve lions?"

Angel gave Cordelia a queer look, and took a seat at the round table.

"Uh… sure. But first, how'd the mission go?"

Gunn and Cordelia exchanged a look, having long forgotten the mission.

"Oh, yeah, uh… the Largis demon. You were right, it already started to hibernate, so we good for a bit." Gunn picked up the talisman he'd discarded when he had seen Spike and Wesley fighting. "We got it enchanted an everything. Whenever we want to hit up its nest, we're prepared." Gunn held out the talisman, but Angel didn't take it.

"And uh… Lorne didn't have any new information for us. So, uh. Yeah. Hey you gonna go crazy if I ask what in the world just happened?"

Angel took in a long, unnecessary breath, wondering how to explain it to them.

"It's simple, really. I'm sure whatever Wesley told you was basically right. I claimed him as my childe again."

"See this is where I'm so confused. I thought Drusilla was his sire?"

"Yeah, well… kind of. She made him a vampire, but I was his sire. It's like, I don't know.. The difference between fathering a baby and raising one? Look it doesn't matter. It just means I'm taking responsibility for him while he's here."

"Like how you did while you were Angelus?"

"Yeah, except... I never cared for the rituals and pomp the order of Aurelius was into, so I didn't really hold up my end of the sire-childe blood bond. I'll do it this time, though." Angel took a long sip of blood, being almost starved from Spike's feeding. His eyes got a faraway look for a moment as he got lost in the past for a moment. He was brought out of his reverie when he noticed how pleased Angelus was at Spike was returning back to the fold.

_Yeah, well, you're not getting another crack at him, _Angel told his demon before stomping him down to the lower basements of his mind.

"How long is this going to last, Angel?"

"I don't know, Gunn. I gotta figure out what drove him here first, before anything else. He said it was something in Sunnydale, and if he just goes back with nothing solved he'll probably end up here again. Or dead. Now that I've claimed him, I can't let that happen. He's my responsibility."

"Okay, so… how does all this effect us?" Fred had barely spoken a word since everything had gone down. Too much excitement for her, probably.

"Not much. Just steer clear of him until I get it all figured out."

Each nodded grimly, letting the words sink in.

"Angel… I still don't get it. Other vampires aren't like this."

"The old ways are called that for a reason, Cordy. Vampires now a days just sire out of habit or instinct, and leave the fledges to fend for themselves."

"Fend for themselves? You make it sound like they're abandoning babies in a forest. Newborn vampires are still vampires."

"Disoriented vampires who don't understand their power. Fledges have strong instincts, but left on their own they have to learn by trial and error. Sunlight, crosses, holy water, the list goes on. Avoiding slayers and hunters, the authorities, demons, too much suspicion… Look it doesn't matter. Dumber they are now the better, easier to kill, okay?" Angel stood up from the chair, done with the conversation, and picked up his mug.

"Yeah, easier to kill…" Gunn's eyes tellingly looked up the stairs, where he knew Spike lay defenseless.

Angel slammed his now empty mug down, making the table wobble and its occupants jump.

"Not even if it were a joke, Charles." Gunn's eyes snapped up to Angel, who was giving him a steely gaze. Gunn nodded slightly, and waited for Angel to look away.

Finally he turned and walked towards the stairs.

"I said when he first came here, that you have the right to overrule me on this one." Angel looked back at them all, making sure he had their attention. "That's not the case anymore. Leave this one alone."

000

Spike stared up at the ceiling, wallowing. That was such a good word, wallowing. Gave a mental picture to Spike of someone sinking in mud to a cold grave, but sort of enjoying it.

Not that anything was enjoyable about this situation.

Spike had worked hard to get where he was. He'd finally been a Master vampire, worthy of respect and fear, just like he'd always wanted. He'd killed two slayers. The odd vampire here or there could claim one, but as far as he knew he was the only living vampire that could lay claim to _two._ He'd killed the anointed and taken over his clan in-what, less than a week? He'd found the gem of Amara, a feat thought impossible. That, and so much more, were his achievements.

And here he was. Submitting to Angel.

The worst part was not knowing what Angel would expect of him. Angelus had been unpredictable and volatile, for sure, but William had eventually figured out his place in the family. Knew when it was time to throw down with Angelus and when he ought to bare his throat and pray for mercy. Could tell by his stride if tonight they were going to go drinking and partying or if he'd ban William from speaking or feeding until he gave permission.

What would Angel be like as his sire? Spike knew better than the story Angel told his humans. Angel and Angelus were the same person when you got right down to it. Both were capable and willing to beat him to a bloody pulp, one just might feel guilty afterwards.

And Spike wasn't sure that was Angel. Angelus at least didn't see him as an inferior species, strictly speaking. Angel held the fact that he had a soul over Spike like a bloody prize whenever they were in contact. Spike was a _thing_. A cold, dead, _object_.

After he'd initially woken up, Spike wanted to crawl inside his own skin and die. He'd really done it. He'd fully submitted again. He couldn't convince himself anymore that he didn't need Angel, that the brooding vampire was just a convenient, gullible soul he could use and abuse until he was ready to ditch. Spike was helpless right now. If Angel didn't keep him, he would meet a painful end.

So, Spike would be a good fledge. Eat his pigs blood. Brush his fangs. Keep off Angel's bad side. Probably just default to the general Angelus rules, just to be safe.

_Damn him. _

_Damn him, and damn me._


	5. Understand

LA, Present Day

Angel knew Spike was just pretending to sleep. He obviously wasn't ready to talk, but Angel wanted answers. So, he sat down and waited for Spike to realize he wasn't going anywhere until they had a chat. It took longer than Angel would have liked, and he felt his patience wearing thin.

Spike, for his part, was hoping Angel would get bored and leave. He couldn't face him yet.

Finally, Spike sighed heavily and pulled himself up, leaning on a curve of fluffy pillows.

He was wearing some of Angels clothes. They hung off of him, making him look more gaunt than he was. After getting himself situated, he met Angels eyes.

Angel held up a bag of blood, but didn't pass it to him.

"Human blood. Vampires slowly starve if they eat nothing but animal blood. Should help with your healing." Still, Angel made no move to give it to him.

Spike knew this game. Answer all of the good sire's questions, and he'll let you have dinner.

Demons don't change.

"What happened, Spike?"

Spike felt his heart drop into his stomach. He pursed his lips and swallowed, looking away uncomfortably. He'd sworn obedience just hours ago. If he was unfilial so soon, Angel would be perfectly justified throwing him out.

The thought of it filled him with dread.

Spike looked back at Angel, trying to figure out how to answer.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Angel. Really. Please leave it. Just got myself into a situation is all."

Angel felt his tenuous grasp on his temper slip.

"That's not an answer, Spike. What did you do?" Angel set the bag of blood down on the table next to him, and stood next to Spike, towering over him.

Spike looked up at him with pleading eyes, knowing that sort of thing never worked before.

There was no way. He couldn't say… he just couldn't.

"Just a fight, Angel. Let it go, please."

"A fight." Angel repeats, his voice cold. Spike feels a chill go up his spine, but keeps his face passive.

"Yeh. So ple-"

"What's it been, William? A couple hours since you swore loyalty?"

Spike squirmed underneath Angel's gaze, wanting to look away but not daring to.

"Y-yes."

Angel paused again for a long moment, and Spike felt his unease grow.

"Look at your knuckles, Spike."

Spike instantly clenched his jaw, but couldn't stop a sharp intake of breath as though he'd been pushed. He kept Angel's gaze a beat longer, then brought his hands out from underneath the covers.

The blond obediently turned his hands palm down, so his traitorous knuckles showed.

"What's missing there, Spike?"

Spike knew what he was referring to. There weren't any cuts or bruising on his knuckles, and there hadn't been when he'd first arrived. Meaning, either Spike hadn't managed to land a single hit during the whole fight, or…

"You swore to me just hours ago, and you're already lying to me." Spike felt the heat of shame course through his body, and did the only thing he could think to do.

He turned his head down and away, baring his throat, and begged.

"Please, Sire. Please don't make me say what happened." Spike's throat stung and tightened, and his voice shook.

Angel regarded Spike for a moment longer, sighed.

"You're unreliable and unfilial. Leave."

Spike felt his whole body tremor at the command. The heat of shame was replaced with a cold fear and desperation as he lunged forward, standing between Angel and the door he was headed towards

"No! You can't!" Spike stared up wildly at his Sire, blocking the door as best he could.

Angel reached down and grabbed Spike's collar and brought him up with a growl, shaking him slightly.

"Obedience for responsibility, Spike. You knew what this meant when you took my blood. "

Spike kept his eyes down and did his best to adopt a submissive posture. His voice trembled more than before, and he almost had to close his eyes from the shame of it all.

"It was my fault. I-None of you are in danger, I swear it. So please. Please don't make me leave."

Spike turned his bowed head, and pressed his forehead to Angel's fist, which was still gripping his shirt.

"I'll take whatever punishment. I'll do whatever you say. Just please… don't make me leave, and don't make me say it. I couldn't bear it."

Spike rubbed his forehead back and forth against Angels knuckles, doing his best to placate the dark vampire before him. After a beat Spike was able to force down his emotions enough to manage a halting purr.

The anger drained slowly from Angel's face, and he began to lower Spike to the ground.

Spike's purr hitched when Angel moved his hand to the back of Spike's neck, fearing what might come.

Angel just past him, contemplating.

Spike's hair was curly and wild, and the roots had started to grow in. He was a complete mess, and not the usual messy-sexy Spike often went for. Spike's bones poked through the fabric of Angel's clothes, and the only color he had were the bruises the littered his body. The real damage was done to his face, however.

One eye was sealed shut from the swelling, and his nose was badly broken. The back of his head had serious damage, and smelled of infection.

Spike held still, purring and hoping this behavior still worked to ease the vampire's ire. There had been times when the only thing that kept Spike from turning into a memory and a pile of dust was this absolutely humiliating display.

Angel was no closer to reaching a conclusion. His anger was almost gone at this point, so he could think clearly, but he had conflicting responsibilities. Above all else, he had to keep his people and his city safe, and Spike was a wild card. Angel could press the issue, and Spike would have to tell him, But… that look in his eye. _It could break him to talk about whatever he did that night._ At the same time…

The blonde was still purring, his eyes cast respectfully down as he waited for Angel to make his choice. _It looks like it's breaking him NOT talking about it. _

"You're making yourself too much of a liability, Spike." Angel shook his head sadly, and tightened his grip on the back of Spike's neck as he thought carefully.

Spike continued to purr, forcing down his fear.

_Angelus won't abandon me. He won't. He just has to know I really am loyal, it's just a test. _

"I pose no threat to your nest, Angelus. I… I _can't_ pose a threat. Even if I wanted to." Spike screwed his eyes shut, swallowed, and looked up at Angel. Angel didn't react, so Spike pressed forward. "In Sunnydale, I was captured by these government types. They were doing experiments on demons and such. I escaped, but not before they'd put some kinda chip in my head. I can't hurt humans. Call anyone in Sunnydale, they'll tell you. I shacked up with the scoobies for a while after it happened, cuz those commandos were still after me for escaping."

Angel had to admit it made a sort of sense. It also accounted for why Spike was said to be helping out the good guys. If he couldn't hurt humans, the only way he could keep his reputation and his thirst for violence sated would be to hunt down demons. If he helped out Buffy, she and her gang wouldn't stake him. It was pretty clever, actually. Wouldn't win him any friends in the demon world, but this set up was probably the only way Spike would have been able to survive under the circumstances. If it was true.

Angel held him there a moment longer, then released the blond and led him back to his bed, grabbing the packet of blood from the table.

"If you're lying to me, I won't just kill you, William." Angel held his gaze for a moment, but found no trace of uncertainty. "Drink half now, save the rest for later." Spike took the bag thankfully, and set it on the bed next to him. After refusing to answer Angel's question, he had thought for sure he'd be going hungry. After sitting back down on the bed, he looked up again and met Angel's gaze, flinching when he saw the anger reappearing.

"I won't press you _today_ Spike. But you're my Childe again. If I'm to trust you in a house of mine, filled with my humans, I've got to trust that you know that."

Spike nodded, his shame compounding.

"I know, Sire."

Angel started for the door, then turned back.

"You're not a Master anymore."

Spike had known this, of course, but hearing it almost sent him careening. He sat back and nodded, waiting for Angel to finish whatever he needed to say.

"Next time I get around to giving you an order, I expect it to be followed."

Spike could hear the unspoken threat clearly.

_Or else you're on your own_

Paris, 1882

"They should be back by now, shouldn't they?" William looked out the window, trying to decide how long they had until sunrise.

"Maybe my white Knight ought to ride off to the rescue…" Drusilla regarded William mysteriously, as though she knew a secret he didn't.

"You see something, pet? They in danger?"

"Danger is… relative." She smiled darkly and made her way upstairs, leaving William to ponder her words.

_Little over an hour till sunrise…_

000

William had made his decision almost instantly after hearing Drusilla's warning. After stepping outside, however, he wondered how intelligent his choice was. He had no idea where they might be.

He wandered for fifteen or so minutes, breathing deeply and trying to catch his Sire's scent.

Finally, he caught it by a bar, and followed the familiar smell until he could hear the sounds of a fight.

Darla was on the ground, unconscious. Angelus stood above her protectively, crouched like a feral beast. Six or seven vampires surrounded them, along with several piles of dust.

William looked on as the vampires closed in. Angelus was in a bad spot: he was seriously injured, and looked exhausted. The other vampires had obviously been wearing him down, and were using the fact that he couldn't fight properly to their advantage. He had to stay crouched over Darla, defending her, otherwise it would just take seconds for one of them to stake her.

The battle had obviously drawn on for a long time. All of the vampires were exhausted, and well past the time for bantering.

Will jumped from his hiding place in the shadows, and tore into the throat of the vampire next to him, breaking his neck. It wouldn't kill him, but he couldn't move. It was one of the first offensive moves Angelus had taught him, as vampires rarely expected someone to try and paralyze them.

Angelus took the opportunity to disarm the vampire nearest him, grateful to have a stake in his hands again.

"Good of you to show, William." Angelus grinned wickedly at Will, and turned to the remaining vampires.

000

Angelus traced his finger across Darla's cheek, avoiding the cuts and bruises littered there.

He'd been just seconds from abandoning his defensive position and taking his chances attacking the vampires who'd ambushed them. This local clan was getting brave. Brave and stupid.

Darla stirred and her eyes fluttered open. The injuries she'd sustained were already on their way to healing-she'd be fine after a good days rest

She smiled up at her boy, stretching lightly.

"I see we won, Angelus. Sorry to have missed you in action." Darla finished stretching, and noticed something at the bottom of the bed.

"It's our mutt. As much as it pains me to say it, he probably saved your life, Darla."

Darla flicked her eyes down to the foot of the bed, where the young man lay sleeping soundly. He looked about as bad as she did.

"When did he show up?"

"Not long after that big one dropped ya. Guess he got worried when we didn't show up at the appointed time, came lookin for us. You shoulda seen him-didn't even hesitate to come in and help with the fight. He didn't last long, but he served his purpose."

Darla raised a brow and sat up, settling herself against Angelus's chest.

"Didn't even consider leaving us to a dusty fate, eh?" Darla kissed Angelus' cheek, before sighing heavily. "Guess that means we're really keeping him."

"Well… you can't teach that kind of loyalty, Darla. He didn't even think about the fact that if we were out of the way he'd have Dru to himself. Doubt it even crossed his tiny little mind." Angelus closed his eyes, and nuzzled his face into Darla's hair. "Dya hear him purr? Boy's mighty pleased with himself."

"Drusilla knew what she was doing when she picked him out. "

"Seems like. It makes me so curious, Darla. How far he'll go. What his limits are."

Darla chuckled lightly. Her boy always found the best forms of entertainment for her.

William just continued to dream, content to be exactly where he belonged.

000

When Will finally woke up, he was alone in Angelus's bed.

He shakily got his feet beneath him, and made his way to the front room. He was sore and riddled with cuts and bruises, but in a great mood.

"The dead do rise. Good of you to join us, William."

Will shrugged with a grin, and took a place on the floor by the fire.

"We were just discussing retaliation. Gonna have to wait a bit for you to be back in full working order. I say as soon as that happens, we go burn their whole nest to the ground."

Angelus sat back in a large chair, legs propped up on the coffee table before him.

Darla nodded her agreement, stroking her hands idly through Drusilla's hair, who was laying in her lap. It was times like this that Will remembered how old and powerful she and Angelus were. They were still injured, but going by their wounds it looked like it had been weeks since the attack, not hours.

"They'll tell the tale… stories and stories and legends written. I ought to save some money so I can buy a copy." Dru caught Will's eye, and smiled at him wantonly. "Will you buy it for me, Will?"

William grinned back and replied he'd buy the world for his princess.

"Well then. I'm off to start this legend." Angelus stood from his chair, and turned back to his family briefly. "Oh, and no one leave the nest, got it? Not until we get some information."

Each nodded in understanding, and Angelus left the room, heading for the wine cellar.

"Information?"

Darla smiled coyly at Will, waiting a few seconds for the screams to start before clarifying.

"Angelus brought one of them back."

Will felt a shiver go up his spine. That meant after Will had been incapacitated (which was fairly fast, if he was being honest), Angelus had finished off the remaining vampires, then carried him, Darla, and one of the enemies all the way back to their nest. Probably at a sprint to get here before sunrise.

The thought made him realize how glad he was to have woken up at the foot of Angelus's bed instead of in the basement.

LA, Present Day

Angel had locked the door again. This made Will relieved more than anything-for many reasons. He didn't want to know if the humans had found out about his chip, for one. He'd probably lose it if one of them said what the scoobies so often reminded him-_I can hurt you, but you can't hurt me. _

When Spike woke up the next evening, the empty packet of blood was gone, replaced with a new one. Human blood again. A sticky note repeated the instructions he'd received earlier. Half now, half later.

Paris, 1882

Angelus sat on the throne-like chair as if he'd sat there everyday his whole existence.

The former occupant of the throne, a vampire master by the name of Julius, lay in a pile on the floor next to him.

"I don't know Darla, seems like a shame to actually burn it to the ground"

"I thought you hated the formal life, Angelus." Darla slid her way into Angelus's lap, stroking his chest.

"You have a point. And consistency _is _key…"

The remnants of the Julius clan looked at each other fearfully. Their Master had been disturbed by Angelus's presence, fearing he was going to try and usurp his domain. The remaining minions and childer had thought that,

per tradition Angelus had infiltrated for the purpose of gaining power. He wouldn't just… burn it all.

They remained where they stood, eyes cast to the ground, occasionally looking up with fearful eyes.

William just wanted to laugh. It had been so easy, once they knew where the nest was. They'd attacked during the day, and taken out the master in under a half hour. William was barely even injured. It had been wonderful chaos while it lasted, and he wondered briefly if they'd be able attack clans more often.

"Whaddya think, grunts?" Angelus regarded the twenty or so assembled vampires, and waited for one to speak up.

"Sir, we-we'd be honored to join your clan as minions and servants." A red headed vampire stepped out from the others, but didn't approach.

"Go ahead then, show your loyalty." The red headed vampire took a few steps, and then gracefully knelt on the ground, and repeated the now familiar words of commitment.

After baring his neck, the vampire waited for Angelus to make his choice. Darla slid from Angelus, who stood from his throne, and tilted his head in thought.

"Nah. I've got childer: what do I minions for?" Angelus swung his hand down cruelly, dusting the vampire kneeling before him.

The other vampires, stunned, began looking for an exit. Unfortunately, all but the exit to the sewers, which Angelus was standing on, had efficiently been destroyed.

William and Drusilla took their places with Angelus and Darla. Angelus motioned for them to make jump down into the sewers before him.

"Daddy… one is hiding very sneakily. Shall I drag him out?"

"No, Dru." Angelus looked up into the rafters, catching the yellow eyes that stared down in horror at the sight below him. "I want him to tell the world what he saw."

Dru clapped her hands excitedly, and jumped down the hole.

"Maybe the next clan will think twice before attacking me an' mine."

LA, Present Day

Time passed quickly at the Hyperion. Maybe it was the constant battles, or having a mystery to solve every other day. Whatever it was, the employees of Angel Investigations had just about forgotten about the recluse vampire living upstairs. They hadn't interacted with him since the fiasco in the foyer with Wesley. Angel hadn't spoken about him since that day either, so they had let the subject drop, and were on their way to forgetting about him entirely.

"Cordelia, will you give Spike his blood? I won't be back in time. He'll be asleep soon after sunrise, do it then."

Cordelia choked down her annoyed look, and adopted a smile before Angel looked up at her. Things were stressful right now. This was the least she could do.

"Sure thing, Angel. Be careful out there."

Angel nodded, and left.

Cordelia made her way to the couch, looking at the clock. Two hours. So much for forgetting about him.

000

Cordelia cautiously opened the door to Spike's room a few inches. When she heard nothing from within, she peeked through and saw Spike buried in blankets and pillows.

Slowly, she inched her way in and took a few steps to the end table by Spike's bed. She sat the packet of blood down carefully, along with some fresh bandages, and picked up the empty packet before turning to make her escape.

Before she could, Spike's hand shot out from the comforter and grabbed her wrist.

"Spike!" She helped, pulling her hand back. He was still buried under the blankets, but she could see the flash of his yellow eyes.

"Where's Angelus?"

"You mean Angel? He's on a job-now let go!" Cordelia pulled her hand back roughly, but Spike refused to.

"Why's he doing this, girl?" Spike's grip on her wrist tightened, and she held back another yelp. Instead, Cordelia willed her heart to slow, and breathed deeply to calm her nerves.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Spike. Now let go right now, and I won't tell Angel about this."

Immediately his hand disappeared back under the covers, and the yellow eyes disappeared.

Cordelia wasted no time in going for the door, pulling out the key as she went.

"Don't go, please." Cordelia froze at the door, and looked back at the voice behind her.

Knowing this was probably a bad idea, Cordelia turned around and stood by the bed once more.

_Maybe I can figure out what really happened. I am a people person, after all. Vampires are sorta like people. Evil, heartless, vicious people. Okay, time to stop thinking and start talking. _

"Do you need something else, Spike?"

Spike stayed quiet, but shifted a little in bed. He kept the covers over him, but allowed part of it to slip from one of his eyes.

"Why's he doin' it, pet? Do I deserve it?" Spike turned his face down from Cordelia, pain apparent in his features.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Spike. Angel? Angel did something to you?"

"Shouldn't be talkin to you. Might make it worse." Spike looked back up at her, and Cordy saw something strange about his eyes.

They were dark, like he was asleep. They didn't focus on anything, even when he was looking at her.

"Was it so bad? Is my shame so important?" The blanket fell entirely off of his face, and he brought a hand up to his eyes. "Gonna bring it to light. Know he is. Can't stop him. Gotta do what he says. Can't be alone. But he's makin me alone. Can't let the light shine on it-it'll burn."

"Can't let the light shine on what, Spike? What're you keeping from Angel?" Cordelia leaned in, trying to catch his eyes which were darting around the room.

"What I did. What we did. What she did. My fault-all my fault. Need another chance. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Spike's frame began to shake, and he curled in on himself.

Cordelia watched him a moment longer, before deciding she wasn't safe.

"I'm sorry… once I'm better I'll come back, pet… don't want…" Spike finally stopped shaking, and seemed to be fully asleep again.

Back in the hallway, Cordy checked the lock on the door before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

_That… was a new level of weird. _

000

"How'd it go, Angel? Wait, don't tell me: I killed the bad guy, saved the girl, now get me some blood. Did I guess right? Okay well here's your blood and we need to talk."

Angel sat down at the table and gratefully accepted the mug of blood. In truth he didn't want to discuss the fight, because doing so would probably just make him angry. They had won, and they'd saved the girl, but the demon had been part of a brood and now the problem was worse. Just another day.

"Alright Cordy, what's up?"

"Your psycho vampire, that's what!"

Angel scrunched his eyebrows and looked at Cordelia, waiting for her to continue.

"Here." Cordelia put down a piece of paper that had a few lines scribbled on it. "Habit from my visions, I wrote down what he said."

"What he said? He talked to you?" Angel's eyebrow twitched in frustration, but Cordy didn't notice it.

"Well I wouldn't say talk so much as rambled. I think he was asleep."

Angel nodded his head: Spike'd done it a few times before, usually meaningless drivel, but occasionally when really stressed he talked almost coherently.

Angel read the lines, hoping to decipher their meaning.

"Looks like it's about time we have a talk." Angel looked up the stairs, wishing he'd had a days rest first. "Thanks for everything, Cordy." Angel gave her a small smile, and headed up the stairs.

The atmosphere was heavy in Spikes room. The smell of blood-fresh and stale, human and vampire-permeated the air.

"Spike." Spike turned to Angel, sat up in bed, and nodded

Angel dragged the chair to the side of his bed, but didn't sit in it. "Let me see your injuries."

Spike hesitated, but wordlessly pulled the blankets off, grimacing painfully when the sheets stuck to his wounds.

Wounds that should have at least closed by now.

"You've been drinking human blood, Spike. More than enough. You should have healed a lot more by now."

Spike looked down at his wounds, looking confused. Indeed, just yesterday the gash on his stomach was closing. Now it was open and angry, and the bandage stunk.

"You've been cleaning it properly, right?" Spike nodded his head, still not saying a word.

Angel looked down at Spike, and sighed. He sat down and peered thoughtfully at the childe, scenarios running through his head.

"Are you trying to pull one over on me?"

Spikes eyes widened, and he shook his head fearfully.

"Then why have you been reopening your wounds? Look at your hands, Spike."

Spike did so, looking surprised when he saw red underneath his fingernails. Surprise turned to fear, and he looked up at Angel with pleading eyes. Angel let the fear mix inside the blond for a moment longer, before speaking.

"You haven't been doing it consciously. You're much more honest when you're asleep, though." Angel passed Spike a piece of paper, which he read with confusion. "You spoke to Cordelia when she brought you blood. This is what you said."

Horror crossed Spike's face, and he shook his head more violently than before.

"Calm yourself. I know you didn't disobey on purpose. You were sleep talking."

Spike nodded, but still eyed Angel carefully.

"Just tell me what's going on, Spike. Then I can help you."

Spike gazed at his sire, sorrow in his eyes.

"Maybe I'm making it too comfortable for you."

Spike turned his gaze away so Angel couldn't see the hurt there. Angel had already inflicted one of the worst punishments possible on him.

He wasn't allowed to speak unless it was to tell Angel what he'd done.

Not being able to communicate and being all but ignored was worse than being blinded or dipped in acid or anything Spike could think of.

Day after day Spike would wait for his sire to bring him a packet of blood. He never knew when Angel would come, but he didn't want to miss it. Every time it was the same: he'd enter, set the packet down, and leave. He wouldn't even look at Spike, but it was the closest thing he could get to interaction during this hell.

Still… it was better than what was waiting for him back in…

Spike pinched his eyes shut, and shook his head, swallowing hard. He needed to get a grip on himself.

"Spike, whatever this is, it's tearing you to pieces. Soon, there isn't going to be anything left of you at all! What could be so bad? What could be so…"

Angel took the paper from Spikes hand, and read from it."…shameful? What are you so sorry about, Spike? What did you do?"

Spike pressed the palms of his hands to his face, and brought his knees up to his chest. It took a long moment for Angel to realize he was silently crying.

Memories came to Angels mind, unbidden and unwanted, but clear as day.

_"What happened, my sweet?" Drusilla ghosted her hand over a fresh bruise on William's face. _

_"Don't worry bout it Dru. 'S my fault."_

_"That it was, boy." I cuff him again on the back of the head, and walk past him into the front room where Darla is waiting. _

_000_

_"Sorry, sorry-my fault, I know it is. I'll fix it Angelus, I swear. Please don't make me leave."_

_000_

_"It was all my fault, I'm so sorry Angelus. Please, just one more chance."_

000

"Oh, William." Angel felt the anger and fight drain out of him, and without thinking stood and gently laid a hand on Spike's head, drawing him in.

_I've been treating him like the enemy-like the Big Bad. _

"It's alright William, it's okay. You're safe. I won't make you tell me."

_He's the victim. _


	6. Safe, For Now

LA, Present Day

"It's alright, you're safe." Angel kept his hand secure but gentle on Spike's head, holding the shaking frame close. "Let it out. You can speak, if you want."

Spike's cries were quiet and mournful. They weren't hysterical or intense the way some people were when Angel saved them. This was different. Angel didn't know how, exactly, but he knew he'd puzzle it out. Spike had always been an open book, wore his heart on his sleeve. Angelus had always loved that, made him that much easier to manipulate.

Spike reached out carefully, and grabbed Angel's t-shirt in both fists, trying to anchor Angel to the spot. Spike felt like he was suffocating and drowning, two things vampires couldn't actually do, but here he was. Defying the odds.

Angel moved his hand to the familiar spot on the back of Spike's neck, and continued to hold him close. It wasn't long before Angel began to purr, trying to soothe his Childe.

Spike felt a calm go through him almost immediately. The vibrations from Angel's purr soothed his aching muscles, and drew up feelings of home and belonging, as strongly as when he'd drank from Angel's wrist that night one week ago.

Home. Family. Belonging. Where was that?

Spike's sobs finally quieted, but he held perfectly still. He didn't want to feel the comforting presence before him withdraw. He knew it would, though. It always did.

"Spike… It's alright. I'll wait for you to tell me on your own, okay?"

Spike nodded into the fabric of Angel's shirt, breathing in deeply the smell of family. He smelled like father and mother, brother and sister, friend and ally. Things Spike had been deprived of for far too long. He wanted to have a good lungful of it to savor when Angel left.

"As for your stay here…" Angel took a breath himself, savoring the same musk Spike was storing up. It was different for Angel, though.

Along with the feeling of family and belonging, was one of responsibility and duty.

"The deal was you can stay as long as you need in order to heal. I'm extending that. Stay as long as you so desire." Angel pulled Spike back a few inches, trying to make eye contact so he could be sure Spike understood. "Understand? I won't force you out, and I won't force you to stay. As long as you abide the rules, you're welcome here."

Spike turned his face down, unable to stop the tide of emotions.

Grief. Shame. Guilt. Self-hatred tinged with self-pity.

And… some amount of joy. He was in his Sire's nest, and he could stay until… until…

Spike whispered a thank you, and let go of Angel's shirt, desiring instead to cover his face. What hurt the most was that Angel meant it-he really, really meant it. For now.

"You're safe here, Spike. I promise."

000

William woke slowly from a troubled sleep. He didn't even remember dreaming, which was rare. He could tell he hadn't been asleep long. His bones and muscles ached, reminding him of his slow healing_. One day I'll heal as fast as Darla and Angelus. _

There was nothing to do about it, though, so, he curled the blanket closer around him and carefully turned over, not wanting to bother Angelus.

Out of habit, he began to run a hand up his face to push his long dirty blonde hair from his eyes, but it was well out of his face, meaning he'd had enough sense to tie it back before falling asleep.

As he made himself comfy, he opened one of his eyes and realized Angelus was not in the bed. Smirking to himself, he stretched out and twisted his back until he felt a satisfying pop.

Sleepy again, he curled up on himself, just in case Angelus or one of the girls came back.

000

He woke again when he heard a door close. It wasn't the door to the room he was in, but the one just across from it.

William, half asleep, wondered who it was. He focused his senses as best he could, and decided it was Angelus.

_Well, if he's not coming back…_ Will stretched up again, this time taking up most of the bed, propping up the pillows to just the right spot before taking a deep breath and going back to sleep.

Back to sleep.

Sleep.

Will groaned to himself, and tried to get comfortable again. _Sleeeeeep. _

He rearranged the pillows yet again, brought the blanket tight around him, and forced his eyes shut.

_Damnit. _

He sat up in bed, blinking the room into focus. It was the middle of the day, which made it hard to see. The harsh light burned his eyes, and he had to squint_. Why don't I have black out curtains? _He stumbled out of bed, nearly falling when his weight didn't hold him like it should. _Forgot I'd hurt that leg…_

Holding the wall to steady himself, he yawned loudly and limped to the door, annoyed when it didn't open. _Damn old house…_ he pulled it again, this time breaking something in the door_. Oops_, he thought unrepentantly as he swung it open and made for the door across from his. This door opened easily, and he slipped inside soundlessly.

Angelus was spread out on the bed like a big cat, the blankets and pillows in disarray around him. He was fast asleep, as far as William could tell, which suited him just fine.

Will climbed up on the bed carefully, rolled up at the foot, and pulled the edge of the comforter up and around him.

Finally comfortable, Will slipped back into a dreamless sleep.

000

Angel couldn't figure it out. Part of him wanted to call Sunnydale and ask them, but he just didn't see how it would help. The last Angel had heard of Spikes dealings with them, Spike had tried to use the gem of Amara to kill Buffy. Before that, he'd kidnapped Willow and Xander, causing a big mess. And before that, well…

Sure, things had changed what with Spike having this chip, but Angel couldn't see any of them trusting Spike or even really liking him.

Oh.

Angel thought about that for a moment longer, and sat up suddenly.

_Could that be-_

"Oy, watch it, 'gelus! Some of us are sleepin!"

Angel jumped out of bed, suddenly wide awake and crazy eyed.

"What in the…Spike?" Angel looked down in confusion at the disgruntled vampire curled at the foot of his bed.

"What're you…" Angel saw realization dawn on Spike's face, followed by horror. "Oh, uh… I-I musta sleep walked."

Spike knew this wasn't strictly true. He remembered waking up and following Angel into his room. In his defense, for some reason his mind had told him this was the late 1890's, back when that type of behavior was acceptable, rather than this being the late 1990's, when he should rather want hot pokers driven through his skin.

"Oh, yeah, I get it. No biggie. I'm just gonna… get some blood." Angel turned from Spike towards his door, shaking off long forgotten memories.

There was a reason Angel had clung to Angelus's life for as long as he could. Angelus had gone and built a family, something vampires desperately need. The gypsy curse hadn't destroyed that need. Now a piece of that had fallen back into his life, but he couldn't be happy about it. Spike was here temporarily, and as an act of desperation. When he was well again-physically and mentally-Angel's nest would be mostly human again.

Humans that kept different hours, had a different way of speaking and thinking, and such complex emotions he'd never be able to hope to understand.

Sighing, Angel popped a bag of blood in the microwave and glanced at the clock. 3 in the afternoon. _So tired. _

None of said humans were around at the moment, which was good because he couldn't figure out if he was in a good mood or a bad mood.

Angel poured the blood into a mug, then headed upstairs, sipping it slowly.

000

As soon as Angel had left, Spike had jumped out of bed and headed for the door. _I am William the Bloody! I can't believe I-I crawled into my Sire's bed like a bloody fledge. _

Spike's hand froze as his it hit the doorknob.

He'd only been in his Sire's bed a few hours, but he hadn't slept that well in… a long time. Probably not since Dru left him, and the last of his vampire family was gone. Darla leaving had been bad enough, but was somewhat expected after Angelus disappeared. Spike couldn't replace Angelus, the hole he'd left was too big for Darla to handle. He'd never expected Dru to leave him-really, really leave him. For good. Didn't think it was in her.

Always the one getting left behind.

Spikes grip on the handle tightened, and he realized he was about to break it, so he let go quickly. As he did, he heard Angel coming back up the stairs, and looked around for an escape.

_Escape? I'm Spike, damnit. I don't hide. So I wanted to sleep in Sire's room. Who the hell cares? He's the one that renewed the damn blood bond, made me a bleedin Childe again. Drudging up old habits. He should accept responsibility for it. _

So, Spike did what any self-respecting (former) Master Vampire would do in that situation, and dove onto Angel's bed and pulled the covers over his head, pretending to be asleep.

000

Angel opened the door with a sigh, and closed it behind him. The room was dark, thanks to black out curtains, but he didn't need vampire sight to sense Spike within. This confused him. He'd thought for sure Spike would take the opportunity to run back to his room.

Angel stopped a chuckle from surfacing, and set his half empty mug down on the end table.

"If you want the rest, go for it." Angel slid underneath the covers, and closed his eyes.

_Wait… what was it that I was thinking about before? With Spike and Sunnydale…? Seemed important…_

_Oh, well. It can wait until tonight. _

For right now, Angel and Spike were right where they belonged.

India, 1884

"What are we doing here, Angelus? I'm hungry."

Angelus pulled Darla onto his lap, letting his hands trace the side of her body.

"Quiet, you don't want to miss this. Look down there."

Darla 'hmm'ed and looked over the edge of the building, trying to spot whatever it was Angelus had for her tonight.

"Oh, is that… What's William doing out?"

"Disobeying, for one. But I don't think either of us are going to be disappointed with what he does."

Darla was intrigued, certainly. Over the four years they'd had him, Angelus had periodically tested the fledge and pushed him to his limits. It had been quite a while since the last time they'd watched incredulously as Will had performed unwittingly for them.

"Does this have to do with that hunter that's been making trouble?" Darla leaned into Angelus's hands, still keeping her eyes on William, who looked to be tracking someone-or at least, attempting to.

"That it does."

Darla watched in amusement as the scene unfolded. William was apparently trying to stalk the vampire hunter and take him out. Which wouldn't be so funny if the hunter hadn't already known.

Will followed the hunter into the trap, but somehow kept his cool when a spell was enacted to immobilize him.

"Ah, so he was a warlock. What are they saying, dear boy?" Angelus had a knack for reading lips, one Darla had never picked up.

"The hunter is asking where Angelus and his nest are located. Our Will is denying any knowledge." The hunter doused a knife in what could have only been holy water, and stabbed it into Will's hand. "Oh, that looks quite painful. He's still denying he knows. Oh, I haven't seen an arm bend like that since… Madrid, 1843." Angelus continued to watch in excitement as the hunter tortured William.

Darla, for her part, was more interested in Angelus's hands, which had gotten livelier as the torture below them intensified.

"Now William is saying HE'S Angelus, and that he'd sent his nest away until the hunter was dealt with. Darla, he's really quite convincing-I wonder if the hunter will believe him?"

Darla just smiled and leaned back, breathing in Angelus's scent.

Below them, the hunter obviously seemed to believe William's story. He took out a wooden stake, and headed towards the prone vampire.

"Alright, that's enough." Angelus picked up a rifle Darla hadn't noticed, and aimed it carefully at the hunter, shooting several times. One hit the hunger in the leg, another in the shoulder, and one got Spike in the stomach. "Oops." Angelus took aim again, and caught the fleeing hunter in the back. As he died, the spell holding William loosened, and he stumbled free.

Darla twisted herself around on Angelus's lap, demanding his attention with a deep kiss.

"Satisfied, Angelus?"

In response, Angelus pushed them out of the chair he'd dragged to the roof, and on to the ground.

"Never."

000

Will barely made it back before dawn. He hoped that somehow Angelus wouldn't be home, and he'd be able to avoid a serious punishment. He and Dru had been ordered in until the business with the hunter was concluded, but he couldn't stay in. Not when the minion had come by with new information.

Angelus didn't know he was a warlock, and had killed dozens of master vampires throughout Asia. He didn't know this hunter was looking for Angelus specifically as a way to prove himself. And since Angelus was nowhere to be found, Will decided to take care of the hunter himself. He couldn't help himself-he'd had to protect the nest.

"Will. Welcome home." Angelus sat in his throne like chair, an unconscious human slipping down to the ground. She wasn't dead-Angelus clearly had plans for her.

"Y-yeah. Um-I was just-"

"Disobeying a direct order and chasing after the hunter on your own?"

Will grinned nervously, trying to gauge Angelus's mood.

"Well, um… yeah. But-"

"But, but, but-" Angelus spike in a high pitched, mocking voice. "If I ate a blond every time I heard that word coming out of your mouth, there'd be a shortage."

"But the hunter is gone, Angelus. I mean, I wasn't the one who-"

"Pulled the trigger?" Angelus dumped his gun to the floor, next to the girl. "No, that would be me."

"Yeah, well… I distracted him."

"Indeed, by getting tortured. Which, admittedly, was fun to watch. Then you stumble home and what, expect praise?"

Will shuffled nervously at the door, hesitating.

"No, 'course not. Not praise. Just-not a bad punishment."

"As in?"

"What?

"You said not a bad punishment. Give me an idea of what a 'bad' punishment is."

Will felt a shiver go up his spine. It wouldn't be the first time he chose his own torture.

"Um… as in stayin in and sleepin with Dru?" Will gave Angelus a half smile, hoping he hadn't misread the mood.

"Strike one. Try again, Will."

"As in… tyin me up an throwin me in the ocean?" Will could almost have gagged himself at that. Giving Angelus ideas like that was bad news.

"Not bad. I think we can do better. What would be the worst, Will? The absolute worst."

Will thought for a moment, not wanting to say what came to mind.

"Come on, Will. What could be the absolute worst thing to happen to little Willy?"

William looked up at Angelus, his eyes wide and fearful. Angelus stood, the girl a pile at his feet. He crossed the room easily, trapping Will between him and the rising sun behind the still open door.

"What do you fear most, Willy? What keeps you up during the day, and wakes you in a cold sweat?" Angelus grabbed the back of his neck forcefully, holding him in place.

Nowhere to run.

The word fell out of William's lips. He didn't have to think about it, not really. There was only one punishment he would never be able to deal with.

"Exile," he whispered.

LA, present day

Angel had been in the habit of eating dinner (well, breakfast for him) with whoever was around after waking up and stumbling downstairs. He could hear them now-Wes and Fred cooking something that probably smelled good.

That half mug from earlier had been good, and he could avoid eating with them if he wanted to, but…

"Spike, why don't you come down and eat dinner with everyone?" The words were out before Angel had time to fully process the possibilities.

Spike pulled the blanket down from off his eyes, and eyed Angel suspiciously. Was this a command he needed to follow, or was it just a suggestion? Spike still had a hard time figuring Angel out. He'd been a bit stricter in some ways than Angelus, yet kinder as well. Which was just all sorts of…

"Yeh, okay."

India, 1884

He looked down, unable to bare his throat or beg, and waited for the fearful words to come from Angelus. The words that would ban him from interacting with the family ever again.

Can't ask Darla questions about vampire lore, or have her teach him the art of seduction.

No more dancing with Dru. No more trying to piece together her meaning, or decipher with her what the stars are saying.

No more drinking with Angelus, or nights of debauchery.

No more family hunts.

No place for him at the foot of the bed.

Nowhere to belong.

The pressure on the back of Will's neck disappeared, and Will watched as Angelus returned, laughing, to his chair.

"Your face, William, your face! Priceless! Close the door, will you? We'll get a draft."

Will quickly reached behind him and slammed the door shut, the force of it shaking the walls.

"I…"

Angelus looked back up at Will, the smile still transforming his face.

"You what, Will?"

"I… can stay?"

Angelus regarded him for a moment, and grabbed the arm of the girl.

"I gave her some ah… herbs, earlier this evening. Should help with the pain when you feed." Angelus held the arm out to Will, who slowly moved forward, a confused look on his face. "Oh, not hers. Yours. Don't think you'll be able to use that right arm for a while."

Will had all but forgotten about his twisted arm. Now that Angelus mentioned it, it did hurt. Bad.

Will dropped to his knees, took the proffered wrist, and buried his fangs in it.

Twenty minutes later, Will was staring up at the ceiling with a really stupid grin on his face, marveling at sights only he could see.

"I don't think you'll ever become predictable, Angelus." Darla gazed at Will momentarily before turning to Angelus, glee in her eyes. His smirk was unmistakable-he was smug as hell.

"I'll never get bored of him. He's loyal to the nest. He isn't capable of betraying it-not purposefully, anyway." Angelus chuckled as Will mumbled something incoherent.

Darla eyed the young man, watching as he traced words in the air with his good arm.

Drusilla sure knew how to pick 'em.

LA, Present Day

It was a test, of that Spike was sure. Would probably determine some important things. So, he mustered up his dusty box of confidence and charm, and dressed up in his finest winning smile.

In reality he was still wearing Angel's clothes, but he somehow looked less pathetic than before. At least, that's what he told himself when he looked himself over after his shower and grooming.

His hair was absolutely unmanageable, but that was to be expected. He didn't have any of his good gel-he needed the extra hardening, glue-like gel, and Angel only had the "soft to the touch" kind. That wouldn't do anything for his wild curls. And the roots had grown in, he was sure. Hard to tell with no reflection, but it had been a long time since he'd dyed it.

Doesn't matter. Looking good had to do with confidence, anyway, and Spike could fake that half way to China if he had to.

Leaving his room, Spike grabbed the handrail and limped his way down the stairs to meet Angel and co.

000

"Alright Fred, really. Leave the man be, he needs to rest or else he'll never heal."

Fred gathered up her books with a nervous laugh, and looked at the clock. She hadn't realized she'd been in Spikes room for so long.

"R-right, yeah, sorry Angel! I'll see you tomorrow, Spike, if you want." Fred grinned at him and left the room, not quite shutting the door behind her.

"She's quite taken with you."

"Yeah, she's a doll, that one." Spike smiled softly. The girl was probably as crazy as Dru, and he found it endearing.

"Let me know if you need anything, Spike." Angel set down the packet of blood, and made his way to the door.

000

"Spike, if I find out you have an ace up your sleeve I'm telling Angel you bit me!" Cordelia pounced Spike and grabbed his sleeve, pulling it up roughly.

"Sorry girly, you're just rubbish. I win again."

Cordelia groaned and threw her cards down, pushing the pile of weapons and books towards Spike.

"Yeah well… I'm still the pretty one."

Spike trapped Cordelia's hand, leaned towards her and let out a cold, minty breath.

He leveled his eyes with hers, grinned coyly, and whispered in her ear:

"Sure about that, pet?"

Cordelia smacked his arm and stood up, brushing herself off. Spike could see the flush of blood rising in her cheeks, though

"Pff. Don't flatter yourself. Hey wait a…" Cordelia reached around into the waistband of Spike's pants, and pulled out a card. "I am SO telling Angel you bit me!"

"Hey! Not funny!" Spike took off after Cordelia, who was surprisingly fast for being mostly human.

"Angel, it ain't true, she's just a sore…. Angel?"

Angel sat in his office pensively, probably brooding.

"Come on Spike, let's leave hi-"

"No, wait. Spike, please take a seat. Cordy, do you mind..?"

"Gone. Let me know if you need anything."

Angel sat for a moment, gazing inscrutably at Spike. It made him very uncomfortable, but he wouldn't let that show.

"I just got off the phone with Dawn."

Spike looked away from Angel's gaze, which was cold and calculating.

He knew.

He knew everything.


	7. A Man

LA Present Day

Things had been going so _well _for once. Spike was finally feeling happy and wanted again, and he could go almost a whole day without thinking about what a useless dead _thing _he was. He knew the truth would come out eventually, it always did, but... to have it happen when he was so off his guard.

"A... Angel, I..."

But there was nothing he could say. It was over. He should just leave before Sire got angry, really angry. Sire's anger was never-

Is he laughing?

"Wha-" Angel raises a hand, and Spike falls silent.

"The Slayer and Spike. Wow. No wonder I didn't figure it out sooner." Angel's laughter grows darker and overcomes him as Spike feels a cold pit grow inside him. This... This is wrong. Something is-

"Spike, this is really too much. I mean... Her? Really? What about your dark mistress or whatever the hell you called Dru? You know I never could beat that romanticism out of you, so how'd the Slayer do it?" Angel is no longer sitting, he's begun pacing in front of Spike, a cruel smile on his lips. "Did you fall for her? Is that it? Dru finally left you for good this time, so you shacked up with the Slayer. Love's Bitch to Buffy's Bitch. It has a bit of a ring to it. So, what was it? Be her punching bag for long enough and maybe one day she'll love you back? Tell me... Is she more violent when she's mad with you or when she's doing you?"

Spike's vision is blurring as anger and shame fight for control in his small frame. What he's saying.. it's so...

"Poor Spikey. Can't get them to stay. I started that pattern, and for that I apologize. First me, then Darla, Dru, now Buffy... I'd be willing to bet there are others. You were a Master for a bit. Where'd your minions go?" Angel's pacing gets more erratic. No... This isn't pacing. It's prowling. "You ever sire any of your own, try to use the bond to keep from being abandoned?" Spike can barely understand what Angel is asking, his anger and shame making him almost deaf. Angel doesn't seem to notice, as he's begun chuckling again, though with a bit less humor. There's an edge to it that Spike recognizes, that he fears.

"Poor Willie. You don't even know why this keeps happening." Angel is in front of Spike suddenly, towering, hulking. Too close. Danger. Spike can't stop his flinch, and notices the glee in Angel's eye that he can still elicit such a strong response.

No. Wait. This... This is-

"Will more time help? Help you understand what your problem is? Or should I just tell you..." Now there's a hand at his throat, and Spike struggles to speak.

"Angelus... Your soul..."

"Still there. Somewhere. No will to fight, though, and it won't so long as I'm focused on my worthless offspring."

Spike can't help the surge that goes through him. Anger at his true sire's behavior the last time they met. Fear of retribution over Spike's betrayal. Betrayals. Joy at having a true demon to relate with. STrangely, his overwhelming feeling is hope. For the truth.

"Well, thank god." He manages to spit out.

"Not the reaction I was expecting. But, that's little Willie for ya." Angelus releases Spike, and like that a hundred years fall away. They're in some stolen house, the ladies are gone, and Spike approaches his sire.

"I need... Advice, Angelus. Direction."

Will shifts uncomfortably, his sire considering his words.

"Alright, William. What's on your mind? And why didn't you come to me sooner?"

Will thinks about ignoring the second question, but as he doesn't want to be ignored himself, answers as best he can.

"Angel would lie. I know you're always you, Angelus, but when the soul is driving you lie. You tell the truth, so please, Sire. Tell me. What do I do?"

Angelus sighs, and glances towards the door. Angel's humans are out there, chattering amongst themselves about what might be going on.

"The Slayer. The one you should have killed."

"But I-"

"Right, the chip. I really don't think that would be a problem if you really wanted it. What about a gun? Not really our way of doing things, but I imagine you'd be capable of getting out a bullet or two."

"I did try that once, but... She's not like other slayers. She's got this whole crowd around her, all the time. Witches and demons and watchers, all... Watching."

"Bet they love that chip in your head. They hold it over you often, boy?"

"'I can hurt you, but you can't hurt me,' is what they say. And they're right."

"Hearing that from food... Why hasn't it been removed?"

"I tried! But I... I was-"

"Alone. Do you see it now? Your problem?"

William shakes his head, and Angelus sighs. He steps towards William, and grabs him by the chin, forcing his head to the side.

"This. You kept doing it before, and Soulboy didn't realize what you were doing. You did, though. You were trying to submit. But he couldn't see it. The scars on your neck that will never heal. One pair from when Drusilla turned you. The other from when I claimed you. Despite what some may think, Vampires are not solitary creatures. You will always crave a pack. My pack. I was forced away by that curse, and since that day you've been searching for another one, but it never worked out."

"No, it didn't." Will lowers his eyes, and Angelus releases him.

"You tried it with the Slayer and her humans. Soulboy realized it, a bit back, when you started sleeping in my bed again, but he was so shocked at such a natural display of Vampire affection that he forgot. The idiot." Angelus leans up against a wall, considering his childe. His hundred year old childe. Despite how old he'd gotten, or his accomplishments (which were considerate), he was still just a fledge to Angelus. Always would be. "You tried to replace me with the Slayer. Not a bad choice. She at least got the violence side of it down pretty well. You gravitated to the strongest power that would take you in, only she never really accepted you. You're torturing yourself, boy, and it'll do you no good. The day will come when she'll stake you, or beat you so bad you won't be able to drag yourself back to me."

Will puts his face in his hands, his knees dangerously close to buckling.

"What do I do, Sire? What can I do? Angel's going to stake me, I can't stay here anymore. All I can do is go back. Pretend it's fine. Hope that she changes."

"Why do you think Angel's going to stake you? Do you think you're the only one who craves the pack, the family? Why do you think he accepted you as Childe instead of Minion, and you accepted? Had he taken you as minion, your Master status would not have been destroyed, just put on hold."

Will looks at him, eyes large and lost, and Angelus knows he doesn't understand.

"Well, that's none of my concern. Like you said, I'll be gone. I don't think I have much time left. If you were really smart you'd find a way to get rid of this soul for good, then we could start over."

"Sorry, mate. I don't fancy going up against both the Slayer's crew and Angel's crew. But if you figure a way, look me up. So long as you're not off your rocker, like last time."

Angelus just smirks, and then he's gone.

Spike stands outside of Buffy's house, listening closely. Dawn's birthday. He hadn't exactly been invited, but he hadn't not been invited either. Besides, he'd grown fond of the little girl, even if she-and everyone else-had turned on him as soon as Buffy had gone back.

Buffy. He can hear her in there. She won't be happy to see him. Wouldn't be happy to have the others see his busted face, have to lie and offer some stupid explanation. Maybe there'd be hell to pay for it.

But it would be their brand of hell. And even though all she saw was some dead thing to be used and abused, one day... Maybe one day, she'd see him as a man.

**End**

**Well, that's that, at least for the forseeable future. I wanted to do an alternate ending in which he stays with Angel, and maybe I still will. Here we have a bit of a bittersweet ending, with the abused returning to his abuser, but perhaps with a better perspective on himself, and a little less breakable.**

**3**


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